


Where the Road Diverges

by Merzibelle



Series: The Most Noble House of Torchwood [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crossover, F/F, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Torture, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-18
Updated: 2013-07-18
Packaged: 2017-12-20 13:44:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 43,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/887947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merzibelle/pseuds/Merzibelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>With the death of Albus Dumbledore, the Second Wizarding War has begun; however, a lull has fallen while the last of the players chose their sides and manuever about the board in preparation for the final battle between Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where the Road Diverges

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Male Pregnancy; Semi-Graphic Torture; Parallels to real world history (Nazism & African Slavery) which could be disturbing to some readers
> 
> Spoilers: All Torchwood up to S2X06 Reset; Harry Potter up to the end of Goblet of Fire
> 
> Disclaimer: Torchwood is ©2006-2009 British Broadcasting Service Wales (BBC Wales). Harry Potter is ©1997-2007 J. K. Rowling. Copyrighted material is used without permission with no intention of profit from the works contained herein.
> 
> Author's Notes: For purposes of this story, all events after Torchwood episode 2x06 Reset and Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire should be disregarded and are not relevant to this story.
> 
> Original Publication/Copyright: 20 February 2010
> 
> Additional Author's Note: Since I stopped reading the books after Goblet of Fire and also stopped watching the movies with Goblet of Fire, Blaise Zabini is male in this series of stories.

**  
Where the Road Diverges**

*** PROLOGUE ***

Draco stared out the window. Silvery frost glinted in the corners of the panes while snow lightly dusted the balcony beyond. Even further away, thick snow hid the familiar grounds of his childhood home. He’d changed, changed so much in four brief months, which he felt like he was standing in a friend’s overdone guest room not the room he’d spent the greater part of his life living in. He shook his head for a moment, his hand automatically shifting to rest against the now reassuring weight of the pistol tucked beneath his arm, and drew in a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm himself. Once again, his mind drifted back to his last moments at Hogwarts before his father brought him back to the manor for the winter holidays.

_“Draco.”_

_“Sir?”_

_“Do you have a minute?”_ _Jack’s request was tentative. Everyone knew his father, the ever demanding Lucius Malfoy, was impatiently waiting for him in the Headmaster’s office. “I won’t keep you long, but I thought you’d rather hear what I had to say away from your father.”_

_Draco just barely smiled. It seemed his recent thoughts on his parents and their views weren’t as well hidden as he thought. He merely nodded though, gesturing with one hand in silent invitation, before conjuring up another chair for the man who was rapidly replacing Professor Snape as his favorite teacher. “Thank you for that courtesy, Professor.”_

_Jack laughed in response, sat, and leant forward in the chair to clasp his hands together between his knees. “You’re good, Draco,” he said. “Every inch the child of the privileged aristocracy, but I know you have your doubts about the drift of your family’s politics. You’re too attentative in class for a pureblood. You don’t look down on what I’m teaching just because it’s not all magic.”_

_“I…” Draco began only to fall silent when Jack held up a hand._

_“Let me finish,” Jack ordered. He smiled when Draco merely nodded rather than speak. “You’re young, not even of age in the Wizarding World, but mere months from being so in the muggle world. Sixteen is the age of consent and majority in the United Kingdom.” Jack paused for a moment, clearly thinking carefully before continuing, “Soon, probably sooner than you think, you’re going to have to make a choice. You’re going to have to decide your own fate. You can continue on the path your parents have mapped out for you, never losing any of the privileges you grew up with yet potentially lose your life, friends, and future, or you can take a chance, walk away from all that and become your own man.”_

_Jack reached into one of his greatcoat pockets and pulled out a very familiar item. The leather holster was no longer the familiar plain black, but embossed with the Malfoy crest. The weapon tucked inside was still matte black and heavy, but the weight was comforting to Draco as he took the weapon from Jack._

_“No matter what your decision is, though I know what I hope it will be, you’re still my best student on the range.” Jack grinned his usual hyper grin. “I’ve taught you enough that I trust you to carry that, Draco. You never know, you might need it sooner than the rest of us think.” He rose to his feet and started for the door. With one hand on the frame, he looked back at Draco. Gone was the grin, the lighthearted image Jack portrayed to all the students outside the classroom. Now, staring back at Draco was the Captain, the hard man who knew the tough choices. “If you make the choice I hope you do, know that you’ll always have a place with us.” With a final nod, Jack strode away in a swirl of that heavy coat he wore everywhere._

A single harsh rap on the door to his room drew Draco back out of his thoughts. He had a feeling, a nebulous one but a feeling nonetheless, that the choice Jack had mentioned was now upon him. He’d known it was coming from the moment Harry had kissed him, chaste though it was, in their dorm back at Hogwarts. Picking up his wand from the table beneath the window, he turned toward the door. A sidelong glance in the mirror as he passed confirmed that his pistol was well hidden beneath his dark suit. He took one last long deep breath to calm himself, let it out slowly, and opened the door just as his Uncle by marriage raised his fist to knock again.

“Uncle Rastaban, Mother,” he greeted. “How can I help you? Father requested I stay in my room until sent for.”

“And now you’re sent for,” Uncle Rastaban replied.

“Oh, Draco, it’s so exciting,” Narcissa, his mother, simpered.

Draco barely refrained from rolling his eyes at his mother’s comment. He’d just spent four months with Hermione and Pansy, gotten lessons from Toshiko Sato, seen ‘society girls’ become ‘independent women’. Now, seeing what pureblooded girls were expected to grow up to be, simpering twits good only for breeding a new generation on, he’d much rather spend time with the independent girls he’d left behind at school. Hiding his shudder and his distaste behind his well practiced mask of indifference, he nodded to them both. “Very well,” he murmured. “Where are we going?”

“The ballroom,” Narcissa murmured. “It’s time…”

“The Dark Lord is being generous and offering you initiation as one of us,” Uncle Rastaban interrupted smoothly. “Now, come. It’s not proper to keep Him waiting.”

*** CHAPTER ONE ***

Draco stood just inside the great paired doors to the Malfoy grand ballroom. Before him, stretching the length of the massive room to where the winged grand staircase rose to the mezzanine level, was a sea of black robed men staring intently at something, likely torture from the screaming, occurring below the staircase. On the landing where the wings of the stair met to continue in a single stair to the mezzanine stood the Dark Lord himself watching the events below with what was clearly sadistic glee. Lining the upper level, dressed in their finest silken robes and glittering jewels, were the women associated with the various Death Eaters. Wives, mothers, and elder daughters all gossiped and preened while trying to catch the eye of one of the favored purebloods on the level below them. A deep sigh escaped Draco as he followed his Uncle up the aisle which opened amongst the Death Eaters and lead directly to where the Dark Lord ruled over the room from the staircase.

Draco kept his gaze on the on the patterned marble floor. The closer they came to the front, the more he could hear the shift of silk and leather as people moved further out of his and Uncle Rastaban’s way. He didn’t want to look up, to see the source of the sobbing cries, desperate begging and echoing screams, so he kept his focus on the floor. As they moved forward, rivulets of blood began to ooze along the joining of the marble, spilling along the veins in the tiles themselves to stain the luminous white with fine lines of bright red. Hearing his father’s voice casting the killing curse, Draco finally lifted his head to see exactly what was going on in front of him.

A semi circle of Death Eaters ringed the space between where he stood and the staircase where the Dark Lord stood holding court. Within the empty space created by that ring, blood puddled beneath bodies and body parts while his Aunt Bellatrix was laughing as she cast the Cruciatus Curse on a small child in the center of the ring. The child’s screams as she writhed in pain on the floor echoed throughout the room to the laughter of the watching Death Eaters.

Draco clenched his jaw as he watched. He’d heard rumors of the activities of the Death Eaters. Gossip from the older students who claimed to be Death Eaters had talked of rape, torture, and just how much they enjoyed doing that. How powerful they’d felt as they’d wielded their wands to cast the unforgiveable curses. He’d brushed the gossip away, thought it just that, gossip; however, here was the proof, undeniable proof that his own family took pleasure in the pain and suffering of the defenseless despite their claims of being under the Imperious Curse, of being innocent.

“Ah, young master Malfoy has deigned to join us this evening,” Voldemort said. His sibilant voice carried over the screaming from the child. “Bellatrix, enough.”

Bellatrix dropped her wand, breaking the curse, and the child curled into a sobbing ball on the floor. Draco tore his gaze from his aunt to focus on the child. Now, now he could see it was a little girl. Long golden brown hair spilled across the blood drenched floor. The strands soon as stained as the marble she lay shaking upon. Her long nightdress was soaked in the blood pooling about the floor. Yet, none of that mattered when he realized what was around her neck. A glittering silver chain which ended in a silver dragon pendent with emerald chip eyes told him exactly who was laying on the floor before him, his adopted baby sister Mica Harkness-Jones.

It took all of Draco’s self control to not immediately run to her side. To do so would sign both their death warrants. He had to be careful. Not give anything away until the final moment. He just hoped Mica didn’t recognize him right away. He forced down the urge to scream at his aunt. He couldn’t believe that she would so eagerly torture her own granddaughter.

“Now, Master Malfoy,” Voldemort hissed. “We’ve already brought your fellow students, Master Montague and the Mistresses Patil, into the fold. Now it is your turn to enter it.”

Draco slowly lifted his gaze from Mica to meet Voldemort’s. He inclined his head, neither committing to nor denying the man’s comment. Not yet at least. Instead, he silently asked him to explain himself. The fingers of his right hand curled tightly around his wand while his left itched to reach for his gun secreted beneath his jacket.

“It is time for you to prune your family tree as your lovely aunt would say,” Voldemort continued. “With the help of Masters Crabbe and Goyle, before their untimely deaths, and Mistress Parvati Patil, We’ve arranged for you to have the perfect Yule gift.” One hand waved lazily at the floor below where Mica lay. “All you need to do is kill her. We’d prefer creatively… We’re certain you can think of something intriguing to do as you are so obviously your father’s son.”

“Even with Bella’s softening, there’s probably enough fight left in her to make things interesting,” his father’s silk tones drifted across the gathering.

Draco twisted his head just enough to consider his father for a long moment. He bit his lip to contain a retort. Rather than waste time talking back to the elder Malfoy, Draco crossed the cleared space to crouch by Mica. He made a show of it, hiking his pants up a bit, crouching down, then slowly shifting to rest one knee on the floor beside her. She was whimpering softly. Her body occasionally twitched as the aftereffects of the Cruciatus echoed through her system. He reached out, glad that his hands were steady and showed none of his inner turmoil, and brushed her tangled and matted hair off her forehead.

 _“M’ tite soeur,”_ Draco thought. He wished once again he dared say all the things he’d come to believe over the last four months rather than hide them away in his heart. _“I’m so sorry, Mica.”_ A heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Only years of training kept him from jumping in response to the touch.

“You will deposit her bloody and violated corpse on that unnatural blood traitor’s doorstep when you’re done with her,” Lucius purred from behind him. There was anticipation his father’s words. “Make her suffer, Draco. This is your chance to prove your loyalty to our Lord.” Lucius’s voice dropped further, a menacing whisper as it caressed his ear. “Of course, if you fail, you’ll be right beside her. I’d love a taste of either of you.”

Draco managed only by the thinnest bit of willpower to keep from reacting to the threat from his father. No, not his father, no longer would he claim any kind of connection to the patriarch of the Malfoy family. A father didn’t threaten their son in such a manner. A shudder raced down his spine as Lucius’s words echoed again though his mind. In their immediate wake, a different set of words echoed. These were full of warmth, praise, and he clung to the way they’d made him feel all those weeks ago in the combat simulation the Room of Requirement had created for the Captain. Those were the proper sort of words from a father to his son.

_“Very good, Draco. You’re doing much better than last time. Another round?”_

Draco shifted his wand in his hand. He turned it around and around between his fingers as he considered Mica and the room around them. He’d have only once chance at doing anything. He’d likely die in the attempt, but there was no way in any lifetime that he’d allow his father and his cronies to harm the little girl who’d wormed her way into his heart with her innocent smiles and soft giggles while he’d played with her.

“Squeamish, Draco?” A different voice interjected. Even without the audible sneer to the words, Draco would know that voice nearly anywhere. He couldn’t believe his own Head of House was encouraging this. “I thought better of you…”

Those words, so simple and yet so devastating, were the final push he needed to decide what to do. He could die in the next few moments but he’d be damned if he wouldn’t take at least one of them with him. He twisted just a bit to look back at his godfather and allowed the faintest of smirks to settle on his lips. He reached across Mica to rest his wand hand on the floor beside her and used the other to open his coat. All the while he watched Severus Snape, gauging his motives for speaking, and what he saw in his godfather’s dark eyes truly frightened him. For there was nothing in those dark eyes, neither compassion nor pleasure nor fear, nothing at all stared back at him.

A tiny whimper, broken with pain, broke the impasse between Draco and Snape. He slid his hand along the floor until he could slip it beneath Mica. Simultaneously, he pulled his Christmas gift from beneath his jacket, bringing the pistol up in one smooth motion to bear on his father. He took a perverse bit of delight in watching his father’s eyes cross for a moment before a mask of disdain settled on the Malfoy patriarch’s face.

“I am many things, Father,” Draco spat. “However, one thing I definitely am not is an incestuous pedophile.” He narrowed his focus to just his father and what he needed to do. “I will never become you no matter how much I look like you.”

Draco could hear the mutters around him. He heard his aunt begin to speak, knowing she’d use her signature tortures on him, and, before she could complete the words, he fired two shots off. The first, already perfectly aimed, was at his father. He didn’t even take the time to acknowledge he’d hit his planned target, but whipped about to fire the second at his aunt. Draco didn’t wait to see if he hit her, but grabbed Mica up into his arms, focused on the one place, the one person, which promised safety in that moment, and apparated away from the manor.

*** CHAPTER TWO ***

In the hours since the attack, nearly every student had been removed from the school. The few who remained were in the sitting room with the team. Hermione was curled up in an armchair, her head resting in Pansy’s lap while the younger girl carded her fingers through Hermione’s hair. What little of Hermione’s face could be seen was streaked with tears while her shoulders periodically shuddered with suppressed sobs. Harry sat on the floor with one of Hermione’s hands in his. The other armchair in the room held Blaise with Luna in his lap. When Blaise wasn’t stroking Luna’s long blonde curls, he was talking in rapid-fire Italian on a mobile he’d borrowed, in the loosest sense of the term, from Owen. Neville, minus his almost constant companion of Ginevra, had taken over Ianto’s usual job of Torchwood teaboy.

Ianto watched as Jack paced the room. He was demanding answers from their team, the teachers and the aurors who’d arrived to investigate the Headmaster’s death. Jack was in full-fledged captain mode. His voice sharp and clipped while he moved from place to place and person to person taking reports which Toshiko was compiling together to try attempt to locate Mica.

“Hovering isn’t going to get this to go faster, Jack,” Tosh snapped. “I’m working as fast as I can. Where’s Gwen?”

“On her way,” Jack snarled. “She and Rhys grabbed a copter from UNIT. We find Mica’s tracker and we’ll use it to get to her. Then _fidelius_ charms and unplottable status won’t matter.”

Jack whipped about again. He paused in his latest circuit to give Ianto an encouraging smile. He was worried about his lover/partner/fiancé. He didn’t look good. He knew it was because Ianto’s vivid imagination was working up a million and one scenarios as to what could be happening to their daughter wherever she was currently. A young woman, whose hair couldn’t seem to decide what color it wanted to be, rushed into the room and stumbled to a halt before him.

“What color is your hair supposed to be?” Jack asked as he caught and steadied her. “Are you even human?”

“Jack,” Ianto said. He crossed over to join Jack and smiled at the young woman. “Meet my cousin, Nymphadora.”

“Ah...” Jack breathed. The woman in front of him looked nothing like Ianto. She was so different, even before you considered the fact she seemed to be a total klutz and tripped over thin air, as to be from a different lineage entirely. “So, you have a better name for emergencies? I don't think I could get to the end of that before someone shot one of us.”

“Tonks,” she replied with a smile. “No one calls me Nymphadora, Sarin.”

“My name is Ianto,” he snapped at her.

“Fine. You're Ianto and I'm Tonks.” Tonks grinned at Ianto before shifting her attention back to Jack. “Sir, Madam Bones asked me to tell you that they have found how Parvati Patil escaped. It seems one of our own had a desperate need for cash to cover gambling debts. He's being held at Headquarters.” She paused and her grin widened. “Officially, she and Kingsley are on their way back to deal with the mess. Unofficially, they're going to try to keep the Ministry and the Wizengamot off your backs for as long as possible.”

“Thank you,” Jack nodded to her. He waved her toward an out of the way spot. “Tell Madam Bones you’re now liaison to Torchwood.”

“Cool,” she replied. She bounced a bit before moving out of his pacing spot and immediately tripped over Harry’s foot. “Now that we have that out of the way, when do we leave for Malfoy Manor?”

“As soon as our other team member gets here,” Jack replied. “She’s bringing up a helicopter.”

“One of those muggle flying things?” Tonks asked. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity. “We can get there faster, sir.”

Jack tapped his wrist strap with one finger. “So can I,” he replied. He nodded to where Harry sat holding Hermione’s hand. “Harry tells me that Draco said there were wards to keep other wizards out. They won’t stop a helicopter.”

“Especially one armed with missiles,” Ianto said drily. He reached over and picked up his sidearm from the table by Hermione’s chair and began checking it over. “I will enjoy giving that order.”

“You’re not going, Ianto.”

Ianto turned slowly. He let the pistol drop down to his side. He stared hard at Owen for a long moment, and then slowly, coldly snarled, “I’m not?”

“You’re not,” Owen reiterated. “Stress, Ianto. I don’t know what it would do considering your condition.” He waved a hand at the younger man before looking over at the school nurse. “You’re already stressed and look sick, so you will stay here where Pommy can keep an eye on you. I’ll go with Jack to fetch Mica back.”

“Condition?” Jack asked. He looked from Ianto to Owen and back to Ianto. He prayed to all the gods he’d long stopped believing in that he wasn’t going to lose Ianto so soon. “What condition?”

Ianto sighed. He gave Owen a final glare while shoving his hand through his hair. “This is not how I wanted to tell you this, Jack,” he said quietly. “I had everything planned, even got us a babysitter, but instead we had Death Eater Interruptus.”

“So,” Jack took a deep breath. He could handle this. There was plenty of alien tech in Cardiff. Whatever was wrong with Ianto could be fixed, cured, and he wouldn’t lose Ianto. “What were you going to such lengths to tell me?”

Ianto looked around at everyone studiously not listening to the conversation. He drew in a breath, but realized he couldn’t say it. Not while looking at Jack. He couldn’t bear it if Jack rejected him. He stared down at the floor instead. “I’m pregnant,” he whispered.

Jack blinked. Of all the things he’d expected to be told, it was not that his lover was pregnant, especially when his lover was a twenty-first century male. He could do nothing but stare at the top of Ianto’s bent head for several minutes. An abortive move at his side reminded him of the nearby Tonks who looked like she wanted to say something but changed her mind and moved back a bit to leave them alone. Now there was just Owen hovering over them. “How?” he asked, quietly.

“Usual method,” Ianto replied. He shook his head and sighed again. “I know what you mean, Jack. It was Halloween. I forgot the charms that night.”

“You were using charms to keep from getting pregnant?” Jack took a step, reached out and cupped Ianto’s chin and lifted his head. He released him as his lover nodded still refusing to meet his eyes. “Owen’s right. You can’t risk it.”

“Jack,” Ianto began. “Do not coddle me. I’ve had a child before remember?”

“I’m not coddling you,” Jack protested. “I’m coddling our unborn child. Hermione and Mica’s brother or sister.”

Ianto looked up for a moment then quickly looked away again. “You don’t think I’m…” he trailed off and swallowed. “Never mind.”

“I don’t think you’re what?” Jack demanded. “And if you say a freak, I will slap you.” He took another step forward and wrapped his arms around Ianto. “Do you remember who I am? What I am? Do you honestly think I’m the kind of person who would either personally or culturally consider that off at all?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Ianto said. He could feel himself flushing red again. “Just reacting. Especially after what Bellatrix said during the fight.”

“Now your mother,” Jack said. “ _She_ is a freak, but that has nothing to do with you.”

“Bellatrix Black Lestrange is not my mother,” Ianto snapped. He roughly shoved Jack away from him and glared at everyone in the room. He took in their bewildered looks and shook his head yet again. “I have to think that way or I won’t be able to fight her. Bellatrix Black Lestrange is the insane woman who tortured Neville’s parents and is Voldemort’s favorite torturer.” He half-smiled as he explained. “My mother was Bella Black who was killed by Voldemort when I was a child.”

Before anyone could say anything, the throb of a helicopter echoed through the building. All the members of Torchwood smiled at each other. The team was about to come together. They knew each other’s skills and talents, how to defend each other. Tosh pressed a hand to her comm listening and replying to Gwen’s questions. The Hogwarts group looked like they were about to have a mass panic attack or stage a small riot.

“Settle down everyone,” Jack ordered. He raised his voice to be heard over their excited babbling. “That’s the helicopter I mentioned earlier. It’s bringing the remaining member of our team.”

“Gwen’s about to land. She has Rhys with her,” Tosh said as silence fell in the room again. A beep from her laptop took her attention from the conversations around her. She stared at the screen for a moment in shock, unable to believe what she was seeing, and then looked up. Instinctively, she sought out Ianto first. “Mica’s tracker,” she said, dazed. “It’s back on the system. According to this, she’s in the Slytherin Common Room.”

*** CHAPTER THREE ***

Ianto stared at Tosh for all of thirty seconds before he whirled about and took off at a dead run down the corridors. He pelted down the stairs, automatically jumping over the trick stair, and tore past Gwen and Rhys as he headed deeper into the depths of Hogwarts. He barely registered Gwen’s questions or her running after him. Ianto reached the door to the Slytherin Common Room, spat the password at the wall, and rushed through it. He nearly tumbled down the steps leading down to the main floor of the common room only Jack’s quick grab of his belt prevented the fall. Ianto looked over his shoulder, smiling gratefully at his lover, before taking the stairs two at a time and rushing over to where two bodies lay before the massive fireplace.

Ianto dropped to his knees beside the two bodies. His hands shook as he reached out to them. Draco was so pale as to rival the Hogwarts ghosts but his arms were wrapped about Mica. Her little body was drenched in blood and spasms occasionally racked her frame, drawing a faint cry from her lips. Each spasm was echoed by Draco. “Mica? _Baban?”_ Ianto murmured. He staggered back, almost falling, as both Owen and Madam Pomfrey shoved him out of the way to reach the kids.

Pomfrey ran her wand in rapid movements over the children while Owen checked their vitals. They spoke to each other in that complex shorthand which only medical professionals seemed to easily understand. “We need to get them to the infirmary right now,” Pomfrey ordered. “I have some potions which will relax them and ease the tension in their muscles.”

“I take it you’ve seen this before, Pommy,” Owen said softly. “So what did this?”

“It’s called the Cruciatus Curse,” Pomfrey explained. “It causes intense pain. Long term exposure can cause insanity.” She shook her head sadly before resuming her diagnostics. A startled cry escaped her and she repeated her most recent charm to confirm the results. “It looks like someone was hexing Mica and Draco has tried to take the pain into himself. He's keeping her from organ failure. We need to move now!” She looked up, her eyes seeking out Jack, as she snapped, “Or we will lose them both!”

Jack handed Ianto over to Toshiko, stepped over his lover’s legs and gathered the two children into his arms. He shifted their weight to balance them better while he reached for his wrist strap. His fingers flew rapidly as he programmed in the coordinates of the infirmary. “Then let’s go, kids,” he ordered the two medics. He waited only long enough for them to lay their hands on the strap before activating it. They reappeared in the infirmary nearly instantaneously. “Fast enough for you, Pommy?”

“Put them down,” she ordered. She pointed at a bed but didn’t wait to see if Jack followed her orders. Instead, she ran off to the storeroom, Owen on her heels, to pull vials and bottles from the shelves. She rushed back to the kids and started pouring the potions into them. She literally shoved Jack out of her way in her haste to work. “Get out of the way. Go sit down…” Pomfrey paused long enough to point at a nearby bed. “And make sure Mr. Jones stays out of the way and rests when he gets here!”

Jack could do nothing but watch helplessly as the two medics worked briskly on his youngest daughter and the boy he’d begun to think of as a son. In his ear, he could hear the rapid conversation between his remaining team members as they ran through the hallways toward the infirmary. Gwen was questioning everything as she always did, especially the way Toshiko was staying right by Ianto’s side, as they ran. He knew from Gwen’s questions and the faint echoes of Hermione’s explanations that the others were nearly there. Jack rose to his feet, turning toward the door, and caught Ianto in his arms as the young man tore into the room. “Ianto,” he said. “Pommy wants you to sit and rest. They’re doing everything they can…”

“I can’t…” Ianto panted. “I need to see her, Jack. She’s my baby. I…” He broke off and shook his head. “Her magic is connected to mine from when I carried her, _cariad_. Please, I… just…”

“I know, love,” Jack murmured. He backed up toward the bed he’d been told to sit on. He resettled there and pulled Ianto down into his lap. “It’s a special bond which can never be broken.” He rocked Ianto while they watched the medics work. The mere fact that both of them were moving more calmly without the frantic actions of just seconds before reassured Jack. “She’ll be fine, Ianto. You need to relax.”

“Mr. Harkness is correct, Mr. Jones,” Pomfrey said. She never took her attention from her patients even as she spoke to Ianto. “Now your magic is supporting new life, young man, so you need to be calm and rest until I have a chance to look at you and start teaching Owen here how to manage a Wizarding pregnancy.” She cast another diagnostic spell and smiled widely before stepping back from the bed where the two children lay. She dropped into a chair by their bed. “Your daughter will be fine, thanks to Draco. Now it's just a matter of letting them rest and bringing them out of the coma slowly.”

Relieved, Ianto slumped against Jack. He rested his head on Jack’s shoulder. He looked over at the doors and smiled encouragingly at Hermione. “Would you get the others, Hermione?” He didn’t wait for her answer, just returned his focus to Mica and Draco. Silently, he watched the two children for several minutes. He knew Tosh had pulled up a chair beside them while Gwen and Rhys settled on the bed next to where he and Jack were seated, but it was the gentle press of Jack’s hand against his stomach which brought him out of his near fugue state. “You aren’t angry?” he asked very softly.

“About the baby?” Jack murmured. He shook his head and kissed Ianto’s temple. “How could I be angry? You, our family, those are the most important things in the world to me. Accidents will happen.” He chuckled softly in Ianto's ear. “And if passion is anything to go by, you might be carrying twins.”

“Jack!” Ianto snapped softly. “It was hard enough to carry Mica!”

“We’ll see what Pommy says,” Jack replied. “I’ll bet you she has a few tricks up her sleeves to help you out.”

“Ianto’s pregnant?” Gwen interjected softly. “Well, Jack, Rhys and I have dibs on godparenthood.”

Ianto looked over at Gwen and slowly reached out a hand to her. “You aren’t disturbed by this?” he asked. “I mean…”

“It’s Torchwood, mate,” Rhys answered for her. “I’ve had four months of seeing all you lot deal with. I’m not surprised at all.”

“What he said,” Gwen added. She slipped off Rhys’s lap and stepped over to hug both Jack and Ianto. “But you know this means we get to hover over you, worry, and generally drive you crazy until you have that baby.” She straightened up and glared down at the two men. “You do know this removes you from field work. Jack? You need to make that official.”

“Great,” Ianto muttered. He glared half-heartedly at both Jack and Gwen. He did not like that idea at all. “You can’t…”

“Done,” Jack snapped. “Ianto is off of field work as of today.” He looked over at Tosh. “He’s still full admin support, archivist, and general manager, but no more field duty.” Jack waited for Tosh to nod before he looked back at his second-in-command. “And Gwen, before you ask about it, we'll make that official, too. Very soon.”

Before Ianto could properly protest, the infirmary doors were violently shoved open and several people spilled into the room. Pomfrey scolded them; demanding quiet, and glared the newcomers down until they’d settled around the room near the Torchwood team. Ianto sighed softly, but still smiled as the group settled down. Only one person was unfamiliar to him and he cast a questioning glance at his cousin. “Tonks?” When she looked at him, he nodded to the stranger. “Who?”

“Kingsley Shacklebolt,” she replied. “Madam Bones sent him to question Draco when he’s awake.” Tonks looked up at Ianto from her seat on the floor. “She also agreed to your preempting me for that liaison post. Said it would be easier for her to keep secure contact this way.”

“Ah,” Ianto stared intently at Tonks for several minutes before nodding. “I suppose she has a reason for this?”

“No question of impropriety,” Kingsley explained. “Tonks is Draco’s cousin, as are you. With the apparent infiltration of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia wanted someone whose loyalties she was certain of to do the questioning.”

Ianto nodded, wanted to question further, but his attention was struck by Jack’s increasing tension. He looked over at the older man in question yet Jack wasn’t looking at him or seemingly even paying attention to the conversation Ianto was having with the aurors. Instead, Jack was staring intently at Pansy Parkinson where the girl stood in the aisle between the watchers and the patients. Ianto appraised Pansy, noting that the normally self-contained girl was fidgeting, and resolved to remain silent until one or the other spoke.

“Professor Harkness?” Pansy finally murmured softly. “Do you…” she trailed off into silence, but pulled a crested necklace out from beneath her jumper and fingered it while staring intently at Jack. She looked from Jack to the necklace to Draco before looking back at Jack. “Sir?”

Jack chuckled softly, but nodded. He rolled his eyes, gently lifted Ianto from his lap to set him on the bed beside him, and reached into his waistcoat pocket to pull out a small object. “I personally think this is gaudy and pretentious,” he muttered. He rolled the item between his fingers for a moment before slipping it on. He then rested his hand on the footboard of the bed and deliberately turned to look at Ianto. “So, you told me we had to have a proper bonding before we had another child. We need to arrange things…”

Ianto chuckled. He watched Pansy from the corner of his eye while addressing Jack. “I know I said that, Jack,” he replied. “It doesn’t take long to arrange as I doubt you want traditional marriage contracts. It would actually take longer for a civil partnership to be set up.” He inclined his head and smiled encouragingly at Pansy. “I think, with cooperation from everyone involved, we could have a small ceremony at the New Year.”

Jack hummed agreeably. “I like that idea,” he replied. “Tosh, would you…”

“Sir,” Pansy’s voice shakily interrupted. “As I am in danger both within and without, I claim sanctuary from you and your household.”

Jack turned slowly to face the girl now kneeling before him with her hands wrapped around his own. The heavy signet ring which represented his connection to and primacy of the Parkinson family glimmered between her fingers. “By what right do you make such a claim,” he responded. His voice was firm, carrying and just as formal as hers had been moments before.

“By right of blood as your grandniece.”

Jack stared at her for a long moment. He could feel the increasing tension in the room. A soft sound from Hermione almost took his attention from the girl kneeling in front of him; however, he knew better than to take his eyes from Pansy. He held her gaze, searched it, and finally nodded. “Very well,” he murmured. He looked up from Pansy to quickly scan the watchers. He saw exactly who he needed and nodded to them. “Pommy, Minerva, witness,” he ordered as he tugged his hands from Pansy’s light hold. He turned them over and nodded to her. “Go ahead, Pansy.”

Pansy let out a soft relieved sigh before resting her hands in Jack’s. “I, Pansy Calpurnia, do pledge my loyalty to you as head of my house and protector of our honor,” she said. She gave him a somewhat shaky smile when she finished the formality.

Jack nodded, briefly clasping her fingers, and smiled back at her. “I, Jack Parkinson Harkness-Jones,” he began slowly. He could feel the magic swelling in the room just as it had more than a century ago when he’d done the more formal adoption rights with Durans Parkinson. “Do accept your pledge of loyalty and take you into my household. You shall have the same rights, privileges, and support as any child of my house.”

“Accipio et obtesto,” the two witches named by Jack chorused. There was triumph in Minerva’s voice as she said the traditional words of witness. However, it was the echoing of the words by both aurors which surprised Jack. He glanced over at them and raised an eyebrow in question.

“The more witnesses,” Kingsley explained. “The less likely someone can later claim coercion.”

Ianto chuckled as he reached over to rest a hand on Pansy’s head. He murmured softly in Welsh, smiling as Gwen sucked in a startled breath, and smiled at her. “So all know and my oldest daughter can stop worrying,” Ianto said quietly. “You, Pansy, are mine and Jack’s ward. We won’t adopt you because that would cause difficulties for you and Hermione…” he trailed off as both girls blushed. He gently tugged Pansy from the floor and kissed her cheek, murmuring in her ear as he did so, “But know I will be very honored to welcome you into the family as a daughter-in-law.”

A soft groan caught all of them by surprise, but it was the words which followed which broke the last linger of tension with laughter at the resigned dry tones. “Pansy,” Draco said roughly. “Must you be so dramatic?”

*** CHAPTER FOUR ***

Ginny sat at the table, sandwiched between the twins, and stared unseeing at her plate. The typical chatter of the Weasley family went right over her head as she thought of the mess she’d been forced to leave behind her at Hogwarts. Draco was at home, a place he clearly hadn’t wanted to go, and Mica was missing in the chaos of the Death Eater attack. Dumbledore was dead, too. Yet, all her family talked about was presents for the holidays and the upcoming Yule dinner. A sigh slipped from her lips. She half-heartedly picked up her fork. She stabbed a potato, started to lift it to eat, and shook her head before settling down to mindlessly stir her food around the plate.

A soft trill by her ear brought Ginny out of her thoughts. She blinked and laughed softly as Luna’s hummingbird hovered in front of her, the tiny bird dwarfed by the letter clutched in its feet. “Huitzil,” Ginny said softly. “Thank you.” She took the note and smiled as the little bird zipped away again. She swore the bird sometimes moved backwards before turning to see where it was flying.

She quickly ripped the note open, scanning the contents, and grinned happily. “Yes!” she cried. “Ron! Luna says that Draco’s back with Mica. They’re hurt, but back in the castle. We should…”

“Let’s go, Gin,” Ron said. He threw his fork onto the table and rose to his feet. “They’re going to need us.”

“And I want to know how Mica is,” Ginny added. She scrambled up herself and started for the sitting room. “Dad, it’s okay, right?”

“Sit down,” Molly snapped. “Finish your dinner.”

“Mom!” Ginny protested. She looked over at Ron who was watching her. He was clearly torn between ingrained obedience to their mother and worry about their friends. She looked back at her mother and snapped, “Our friends need us.”

“Nobody in this family has Slytherin friends.”

Ginny stared at her mother in shock. She looked from her mother to her father, but as she’d seen all her life, her father was deferring to her mother’s decisions with regard to the family. Ginny clenched her hands on the back of her chair and glared across the table at her mother. “Well, we do!” she snapped. She waved her hand between her and Ron. “We do, Mom!”

“Ginevra, do not talk back to me,” Molly said. She rose to her feet and pointed imperiously at the chair in front of Ginny. “Sit down and eat your dinner.”

Ginny shook her head. “No,” she replied. “I’m going to see my friends.”

“It’s safe now, Mom,” Fred said.

“The aurors are in the castle,” George added. “There’s no reason they can’t go back.”

"Until Ginny realizes that I am doing this for her own good,” Molly snapped. She glared at everyone. “And does as she's told, she's not going anywhere near Hogwarts!"

“I am not a baby, Mom,” Ginny retorted. “I’m going to see my friends and Mica. I’m certain Professor Jones would appreciate knowing that we care!”

“You mean that lying Slytherin is back?” Bill interjected. Ginny couldn’t believe what she was hearing, the almost sly tones in Bill’s voice as he spoke about Professor Jones who’d been nothing but nice to her. “He probably sold Dumbledore out to You-Know-Who.”

“The only liar I see is you, Bill!” Ginny leant forward and sneered at her oldest brother. “You betrayed your best friend just so Charlie could take his place on the Quidditch team. Talk about selling someone out!”

For just a moment, Ginny saw shock in her brother’s eyes before he quickly covered the reaction. He glared harshly at her before snapping, “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I do, Bill,” Ginny screamed. “I looked into it! Amazing how informative the Hogwarts Library can be when it feels like it!”

“Stop arguing with your elders, Ginevra,” Molly yelled back. “Sit down now!”

Ginny shook her head. She looked around the table for support from her siblings, but it was clear they were all staying out of the fight for the moment. “No, Mother, I won’t,” Ginny replied. She stopped yelling. She remembered what Professor Jones had taught them about people who resorted to yelling to get their point across. _If you have to scream, you’ve already lost the argument._ She took a deep breath in a vain attempt to calm her temper. “You taught me to stand for what is right. What Bill and Charlie did to Professor Jones was wrong. I don’t care whose kid he was.”

“I don’t know what he’s been telling you, but your brothers do not lie,” Molly snapped. “Obviously, Professor Jones is wrong.”

“Professor Jones didn’t say a single thing to me until I confronted him,” Ginny corrected. “I knew there was something wrong. I asked him, but he refused to say a thing.” She shook her head and shifted her glare back to Bill. “I used the Library Find spell and got it to give me a copy of a diary written by a Gryffindor. You might remember her, Bill. It belonged to Conceptua…”

“Ginevra Weasley, you will not take the side of a Slytherin,” Molly interrupted Ginny’s explanation. “And you will definitely not agree with a Lestrange!”

“I do when they’re in the right!” Ginny flung a hand out toward the other end of the table. “And you know they are, Mom!”

Molly, face bright red with angry, rose to her feet. Her wand was clutched tightly in her hand. Ginny stared and took a half-step back from the anger blazing in her mother’s eyes. “No child of the Weasley’s supports Slytherins, they are no better than Death Eaters! So, if you insist on continuing this,” she hissed. “Then you are no longer a member of this family.”

“Molly!” Arthur snapped. “No!”

Ginny’s breath was stolen from her lungs as her heart clenched tight in her chest. She stared wildly around the room as she struggled to draw breath. She had a quick moment to see Percy pull his wand, waving it wildly in front of her as if to deflect something, and heard the clatter of metal on the floor as a hand fell from the Weasley clock before her vision blurred, air and dust swirled around her, and she passed out even as she felt the typical strain of apparition.

*** CHAPTER FIVE ***

Ianto settled into the armchair, Mica cuddled against his chest, and watched Jack hover over Draco where the young man spoke to the aurors. Just looking at him, Ianto could see that the boy who’d left the castle just one day before was gone, forced to grow up in mere hours, to leave the young man before them. The castle, as always, knew what was going on as, on their return from the hospital wing, they’d discovered the addition of two bedrooms to their suite. Draco’s things were in one while Hermione’s were in the other. Ianto knew the castle understood his need to have his children close to him for at least a few days.

He shifted his attention from the questioning going on off to one side of the room, to the other quests he and Jack were currently hosting. Gwen and Rhys were cuddled up together on the sofa with Gwen firing questions at Hermione and Pansy in an attempt to learn about the castle and the Wizarding World. Blaise was once again in the other armchair arguing in Italian on Owen’s mobile. Luna, newly returned from the Ravenclaw tower, resettled in his lap with her head on his shoulder. Tosh was furiously working away on her laptop, coding being her way of dealing with stress, while Owen was seated with Pommy at Tosh’s table going over Ianto’s medical records. The only people missing were Neville and Harry. The two boys were making a run down to the kitchens to acquire snacks from the house elves.

“No,” Jack’s voice cut through a lull in the hum of conversation. “You don’t need to dose him. I trust…”

Ianto looked over in time to see Draco rest a hand on Jack’s arm. He watched the conversation going on at the table. He easily recognized the vial in Kingsley’s hand, veritaserum, and wondered why Jack was protesting.

“I have to do it, sir,” Draco said. “You should know that.” He stared at Jack for several minutes. “I don’t want any doubts in anyone’s mind as to what happened and why.”

Jack stared at Draco. He wanted to be certain Draco knew exactly what he was agreeing to before he agreed to allow Kingsley to use that potion on his son. Finally, he gave a single nod and shifted his attention to the auror. “I will sit in on this,” he stated flatly. “Agreed?”

“Of course,” Kingsley agreed.

Jack grabbed a chair, turned it, and sat it beside Draco’s. He straddled the chair and crossed his arms on the back of it. He gave Draco an encouraging smile before settling in to watch the interrogation. Before Kingsley could do more than begin to draw the pipette out of the vial, a miniature whirlwind swirled into the being in the center of the room. It spun about for several minutes, speeding up then slowing down again. It wasn’t until Minerva came running into the room that the whirlwind slowed to a halt leaving the limp body of Ginevra Weasley on the floor.

“I’m beginning to think this school is hell on its students,” Owen muttered. Both he and Pommy rose to examine Ginny. Harry, newly returned with trays of snacks with Neville, hastily shoved his tray at Gwen and knelt down by the medics. Owen smiled briefly at Harry, proud of the boy who was his best student despite the prophecy hanging over his head, before turning to Pommy. “What’s wrong with her? Her vitals are all over the place, but I can’t find anything physically wrong with her.” He shifted his attention from Madam Pomfrey to Minerva in the doorway. “How’d she get here anyway? She was at home. Her mother insisted on her leaving the castle.”

“Ginevra is a student here,” Minerva said. “The castle would do its best to protect her.”

“Her magic is fading, Minevra,” Pomfrey reported. “She’s been banished from the Weasley family apparently as there’s no magic within her other than her personal ones. The blood magics related to family and heritage are gone.” She shook her head wondering what the young Gryffindor had done to deserve such a harsh punishment from her parents. “It’s only a matter of time before…”

“What?” Rhys interjected. To Ianto’s immense surprise, the Welshman slid off the sofa and stroked the girl’s hair. “How could her family do this? From what Hermione said, she’s someone anyone would be proud to have for a daughter.” Rhys knelt on the floor beside Ginny, picked up her hand and looked back at Gwen beseechingly.

“Careful, Rhys,” Ianto said. “This is old magic you’re dealing with here.”

“Magic, shmagic,” Rhys replied. “All I see is a girl in need of a home and we have plenty of room, don’t we?”

“We do indeed.” Gwen crouched down next to Rhys and rested a hand on his shoulder. She looked over at Ianto and grinned widely. “So you tell that magic of yours where to stick it!”

There was an almost audible snap as the ambient magic of the Wizarding World took Gwen at her word. In the wake of the sound, everyone in the room stared at each other before a soft groan from Ginny had them all staring at her. Jack’s soft laugh followed the groan. “Congratulations, Gwen,” he said. “It’s a girl.”

“Jack!” Gwen snapped. “It can’t be…”

“Shh,” Rhys said. He spoke over Gwen’s protests. “Stay still, sweetheart,” he murmured to Ginny while brushing her hair off her forehead again. “Let the doctors do their thing.”

“Who are you?” Ginny asked. She was dazed and confused, not the least of her confusion caused by suddenly being at Hogwarts. “What’s going on?”

“Hogwarts brought you here,” Madam Pomfrey explained. “For some reason, your family banished you. You were dying.” She looked up at Rhys and smiled widely at him. “These two muggles magically adopted you, but I’m not exactly certain how they did.”

"It's the damned Welsh blood," Ianto said philosophically. "Even when they don't have any magic, they are awash in it. Look them over, Pommy, see if I'm wrong."

Pomfrey stared hard at Ianto until he gave her an encouraging nod. She half-shrugged, waved her wand and cast the usual magic diagnostic charms first on Rhys before moving on to Gwen. The results were so surprising that she repeated the tests. Dazed, she turned to Ianto again. “You’re right,” she said, shocked.

“It's one of the first things I noticed when I went to live there,” Ianto explained. “I had to be very careful what I said and how I said it, or it would trigger a response from some poor passerby.”

“Well,” Owen said. He looked over to consider Ianto. “That explains why you’re so quiet, Teaboy.”

“But my parents wouldn’t have,” Ginny began. She struggled to sit up and sighed as she was helped by Rhys. “Oh…” she murmured.

“Oh?” Rhys asked.

Before Ginny could answer, the sound of several sets of running feet and the exceedingly familiar sound of Ron Wealsey shouting at the top of his lungs echoed through the defense classroom from the hallways beyond. Jack rose, smiling as Rhys shifted his position to be between the weakened Ginny and the potential coming threat, and looked at the door. Ron led the pack of young men who came running into the Harkness-Jones quarters. “Slow down, Misters Weasley,” Jack ordered. “Ginevra is here.”

Ron panted, nodding, and rested his hands on his knees while he struggled to catch his breath. As much as they did laps, he’d never run up the castle stairs before. He was completely out of breath, so were the twins; however, Percy was as calm as he ever was as he addressed Jack. “Is she all right?”

“She is now,” Minerva replied. “Can any of you explain what in the world happened? Why did Miss Weasley show up here with all her family magic ripped from her?”

Ron opened his mouth. As much as he adored his sister, he couldn’t really say anything against his mother either. He looked at the twins, silently asking them to speak for him, but they turned to Percy. The oldest of them sighed tiredly at them and gave a brisk nod. “Mom and Ginny argued over her and Ron returning here to see their friends,” Percy began. “Mom insisted that Ginny not be friends with the Slytherins. When Ginny refused, she gave her an ultimatum, but the magic took her literally since she was holding her wand when she said it.”

“Molly always did have an ungovernable temper. Spoke before she thought. It got her into more trouble when we were in school..." Pommy trailed off, sighed and shook her head. "I'm sorry, boys, but the change is irreversible. Ginny's magic is anchored by her new parents now."

Ron stared, his jaw hanging open, the twins echoing his expression; Percy, however, was determined to get answers about his sister. “What new parents?” he asked.

“My daughter, Gwen,” Jack replied. “And her fiancé, Rhys Williams.”

“Who?” Ron asked stupidly. He really, really felt stupid at the moment. And he hated it. The twins nodded sagely beside him as if they knew what the captain was talking about. “Can we see her, sir?” Ron finally asked rather than focus on people he didn’t know.

“Of course,” Jack replied. He waved a hand toward where Ginny now lay on the sofa, her head on Gwen’s lap while Rhys hovered over them from behind the sofa. “Go ahead.”

“We won’t,” Ron started to protest before trailing off into silence. “I don’t know what to say to her, sir. She’s my sister. I love her and I don’t want to lose her.”

“You don’t have to, Weasley,” Draco snapped. He was getting tired of the boy’s stumbling over his words. “The magics which regulate inclusion or expulsion from a family are parent to child. Siblings are fine.” He nodded encouragingly toward Ginny. “Try it and see.”

“What?”

Draco rolled his eyes before replying. “Whatever your mother did should not have affected your connection to Ginny,” he explained patiently. “You can still choose to relate as siblings. You just have different parents.”

“Dammit, Ron,” Ginny groused. “Get over here so I can hit you!”

Ron stared at Draco for a moment. Then he rushed for the sofa with the twins on his heels. He hugged Ginny tightly, passed her over to Fred who hugged her between him and George before Percy joined them to hug her as well. Ron watched Ginny, only noticing her exhaustion as Percy resettled her on the sofa by an unfamiliar dark-haired woman. He looked from her to the man behind her and swallowed hard. “Um,” Ron asked. “Are you Ginny’s new parents?”

“That’s us,” Rhys answered with a smile. “I’m Rhys Williams. She’s Gwen Cooper.”

“Is it all right if we… we’re her brothers,” Ron paused for a moment. “Well, some of them… and… we don’t want to…”

Rhys shook his head and held up a hand to silence Ron. “I’m not going to keep you from seeing her, but you ever upset her,” he trailed off menacingly. “You’ll have to face me, Gwen and her grandfather.” He looked over at Jack with a grin. “I’m certain you don’t want to make him angry.”

“I still find it hard to understand how they can carry that much dormant magic in their system,” Pommy asked.

“I heard something once,” Draco murmured. “I think it was my grandfather who said it to my father, something about leaving the Welsh alone...." He shook his head. “I don't remember. I must have been only five or six at the time.” He looked over at Jack. “You must have a very interesting family tapestry, Professor.”

“We do, Draco.” Ianto chuckled tiredly before looking over at Madam Pomfrey. “The Welsh have always believed in magic. Gwen may have jumped when Dobby came for me last fall, but wasn’t the least bit scared of his arrival. It’s a combination of belief, blood and the land they live in.”

“Well, whatever it is, it is done and it can't be undone,” Pommy replied. She looked at the Weasley boys clustered around Ginny and sadly shook her head. “Poor Molly. Act in haste, repent in leisure. I hope Ginevra can forgive her and they can have some sort of relationship.”

“We'll all have to hope that,” Ianto murmured. He looked at the Weasley/Cooper/Willams cluster on the sofa for a long moment and then over at Draco and sighed softly. “I know Gwen and Rhys understand the value of family and friends.”

“Are you all right, Mr. Malfoy?” Kingsley asked the young wizard after a long moment of silence. He’d noticed Malfoy heir shaking and wondered if he needed a break before the questioning resumed. “Do you want some time to compose yourself?”

“I don't think time will make it better, sir,” Draco said quietly. He shifted in his chair to look at Kingsley rather than the extremely lucky Ginny. “I just realized I did to myself what Ginevra’s mother did to her. I killed my father and forswore my family name. There's no going back from that.”

“I don't feel dead, Draco,” Jack interjected into the conversation.

“I don't...” Draco blinked and looked over at Jack. “What?”

Jack grinned hugely. He was taking a perverse sort of pleasure in Draco’s confusion. “I said I don't feel dead.”

“I know,” Draco said. “I heard you. Just what does that have to do with...” he paused to consider his words for a moment. “This mess I'm in."

“Well... “

“Dammit, Jack, stop tormenting him,” Ianto snapped. He shifted a bit in the armchair. Mica was heavy now that she was asleep and the chair was getting uncomfortable. “When you adopted Mica, you adopted us. You're on our family tapestry.” He considered for a moment and then laughed gaily. “We should check it for confirmation, but I just realized that Draco, Hermione and Mica are Ginny’s aunts and uncle.”

“Hmm, the collateral lines are a tangled mess, aren’t they? I mean we are now sort of related to the Weasleys,” Draco mused. “What did you say?

“I said you, Hermione and Mica are now Ginny's aunts and uncle.” Ianto smiled and nodded to the young man. “You, Draco, have been on the Harkness-Jones tapestry since you adopted Mica on Halloween.”

“I don't understand. I was still a Malfoy then...” Draco tilted his head and considered Ianto. “Wasn't I?”

“Mostly, or so it seemed at the time,” Ianto said. “Which is part of why I want to look at the tapestry to see what it says now.”

Jack held up a hand to keep anyone from asking another question. Only when the entire room was quiet, save for the repetitive clicking of Tosh’s keyboard, he called, “Mipsy!” He waited for the house elf to appear in front of him. “Would you bring the tapestry here, please? We need to consult it again.”

*** CHAPTER SIX ***

“Here, Tad, let me take her,” Hermione murmured. She bent down and gently gathered up Mica from Ianto’s lap. “Pansy and I will put her to bed.” She chuckled at Ianto’s raised eyebrow and blushed faintly. “That’s all we’re going to do, promise.” She looked over at Pansy and her blush deepened. “Though I hope you and Dad won’t mind if she stays with me.”

“I can’t say anything, Hermione,” Ianto said quietly. He kissed Mica’s forehead and brushed her hair back to avoid looking at his daughter. “At least you won’t end up in my position.”

Both girls laughed gaily. Pansy bent to kiss his cheek and smiled. “You should wear robes, sir,” she said.

“Ianto,” he corrected. At her confused look, he smiled. “You’re part of the family, Pansy. You can call me Ianto outside of class. If things get serious between you and Hermione, then you can call me Tad like she does.”

“Um…” Pansy turned an interesting shade of red before nodding. “Thank you, Ianto.” She rested a hand on Hermione’s back and followed her girlfriend from the sitting room to Mica’s bedroom. The girls were stopped by Draco who had to check on Mica before she left the room. As the two girls left the room, Draco turned to Ianto with a question in his own eyes.

“Ah,” Draco breathed. “Did I miss something while I was gone?”

Ianto chuckled softly as he rose to his feet. He started past Draco and paused to rest his hand on his new son’s shoulder. “I would have thought you’d have already known,” he said. He smiled at the young man, nodded briefly, and looked over at Jack. “I’ll be back in a moment, Jack. Pansy had a point. I would be more comfortable in different clothes.”

Jack nodded, leant over and briefly kissed Ianto. “I want you comfortable,” he said. “I know how hard male pregnancy is when you have proper support and access to proper tech; I don’t even want to imagine how it would be for you.”

“But you had Hermione…” Ianto broke off and shook his head. “I forgot you were with the Doctor.”

“Yes, yes,” Draco interrupted while gently shoving both men back from where they were leaning over him. “I didn’t think Pansy would reveal so much so quickly.” He shook his head with a mock despairing sigh and a faint frown. “We’re losing some of our Slytheriness, I think.”

“A good thing,” Ianto murmured. “Jack hates it when I get all Slytherin on him.”

“It’s not all bad,” Draco replied. “Planning and foresight and, well, cunning, have a place, too.”

“But not in front of family,” Jack protested. “Drives me mad!”

“Not in front of the family, then.” Draco smirked at Jack. “But for the benefit of the family?”

“Oh, that’s allowed. Encouraged even,” Jack said. “Just don’t drive me insane concealing things, okay?”

“All right,” Draco answered. His tone was very serious, but his face was studiously blank.

Jack looked from Draco to Ianto and back to Draco before shaking his head. He didn’t know if he liked that his partner and newly acquired son were so alike or not. Turning to Gwen, he said, “Great, now there’re two of them!”

“Three,” Gwen replied smugly. “You forgot Hermione.”

Ianto laughed gaily as he left the room for his and Jack’s bedroom. He called back to Jack, “She’s got you there.”

Jack stared after Ianto. He couldn’t believe how much Ianto had changed since he’d reassured him that he accepted the fact that Ianto could carry a child. Of course, having Mica back was an even greater part of Ianto’s state at the moment. Still, he never wanted to see that sort of terror in his lover’s eyes again. He needed to make sure Ianto always knew how he felt. He wasn't always the best with words, but he was going to have to find them. He smiled at Ianto as the man returned to the room now dressed in loose tai-chi pants paired with a black t-shirt. The t-shirt clung to Ianto’s stomach, highlighting the just barely noticeable swelling there, and Jack could do nothing but stare at his partner. “Ian…” he trailed off unable to find the words to explain any of what he was thinking. A hand waved a white handkerchief in front of his face.

“You look like you could use this, sir,” Draco said drily.

“You are a brat,” Jack replied. He snatched the handkerchief, twirled it up and snapped it at the back of Draco’s head. Before he could say anything else, Mipsy and Libby popped into the room with the tapestry between them. While Mipsy rolled the tapestry out on a low table she made appear in the middle of the room, Libby quietly slipped off to sit with Mica. “Thank you, Mipsy,” Jack said.

Jack smiled at everyone in the room, took a few steps over and crouched down by the tapestry. He scanned it, looking for the various members of the family, and smiled. “There,” he said. He tapped a spot with a wide smile. “There’s our Gwen, her betrothed Rhys and their newly acquired daughter, Ginevra.” He smiled at Gwen who was gaping at the tapestry before looking over at Draco and holding out a hand. Jack waited for Draco to join him and nodded to the tapestry. “And here, this is you, Draco.” He tapped the fabric before tracing Draco’s name. “Draco Peregrine Harkness-Jones.”

“That is not possible,” Kingsley said. He’d crossed over to the tapestry and stared down at it. “It really isn’t.”

“It clearly happened,” Ianto replied. He smiled and rested a hand on Draco’s shoulder. He considered for a moment, eyed the height of the table Mipsy conjured, and settled on the floor beside it. It was amazing to see the family tapestry laid out before him like this and he couldn’t resist looking at it in more detail. “I’m not complaining.”

“He’s right, though,” Minerva added. “It never should have happened. Something snapped the link between Mr. Malfoy and his family and anchored his magic to yours.” She shook her head in disbelief. “That should not happen while Mr. Malfoy’s name and family exists.”

“I… uh…” Draco said slowly. “I’m certain I killed my father earlier this evening, Professor.”

“Irrelevant, Mr…. Harkness-Jones,” Kingsley replied. “Technically, you should have become Lord Malfoy the moment your father died. If I understood Professor Harkness correctly, this happened a while ago, while you were still bound to your father and your bloodline.” He pointed at the tapestry. “This is impossible.”

“If I remember right,” Harry interjected quietly. “Didn’t you adopt Mica as your sister just after she went caroling everywhere that she ‘got you’? Would that have something to do with it?”

“What exactly did you do, Draco?” Ianto asked.

“I used an old Latin formula to adopt Mica,” Draco murmured. He blushed and ducked his head a bit before looking up at Ianto from under his lashes. “I basically said that I had the right to say she was my sister and I was her brother. Neville, Blaise and Hermione witnessed it.”

“It’s an old magic, that one,” Minerva said after a moment’s thought. “But it’s a personal statement. It wouldn’t have changed either of your personal status.”

Ianto hummed an agreement. He lifted his gaze from the tapestry to look first at Draco then at Minerva. “That does leave the question of how it happened,” Ianto conceded.

“Mica,” Jack said. “It had to be Mica who did it.” He looked at everyone in the room before explaining his thoughts. “She’s a toddler and very literal minded like all young children. What do you bet she somehow thought that if she was Draco’s sister we’re his parents, too?”

“Mr. Harkness,” Minerva said. “I don’t think you understand the amount of power it would take to break a link that way. Look at what happened to Miss Weasley.”

“Imagine the power it takes to keep me living,” Jack snapped back at her. “If it wasn’t Mica, then I don’t know.” He gave everyone a stern look. “Personally, I don’t care either. Draco’s now one of my kids. Here’s the proof.” Jack slapped his hand on the tapestry. “Deal with it.” He looked about at the other adults in the room and shrugged. “Look, why are we so worried about how it happened. We know it did and that’s all that matters, yes?”

Pommy pulled out her want and waved it over Draco before Jack finished his question. “From a medical standpoint, you are correct.” She smiled at Draco and Jack. “Healthy but a bit tired and all his magic functioning perfectly.”

“Then all is fine,” Ianto muttered. He yawned and absently rested a hand on his stomach. “Anything else because I’m…”

Before Ianto could finish his comment, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the still open door connecting their quarters to the defense classroom. Everyone tensed, wondering who could be stalking toward them, but the appearance of Professor Snape was not expected nor was Draco’s reaction to the potions master’s arrival.

“You bastard!” Draco screamed. He dashed across the room, leapt on Snape and knocked them both to the floor. He straddled the professor and wrapped his hands around the older man’s neck. Squeezing, he snarled. “You sick son of a bitch. How dare you come back here?”

*** CHAPTER SEVEN ***

For a moment, no one could move. The shock of Draco, of all people, violently attacking a teacher, especially Snape, was just that great. Everyone stared as Draco shifted his weight to rest a knee on Snape’s chest and used that leverage to tighten his grip around his professor’s throat. The silence dragged on until it broke in a chorus of protests from the female teachers demanding explanations and for Draco to let Snape go. Jack, more a doer than a talker, took a few steps over, grabbed Draco by the back of the collar and pulled him off the professor. “Strictly speaking, Draco, throttling people is my job.”

“You don’t know what he did!” Draco struggled against Jack’s hold on his collar. He fought harder when Jack grabbed him around the chest, restricting his movements completely. Draco glared back at his apparent father and snapped, “Let me kill him!”

“What did he do, son?” Jack asked.

“He was there! He took part in what they did,” Draco bit the words out. He twisted against Jack determined to escape the older man’s hold. “He wanted me to…” he trailed off unable to say what he’d been asked to do by Voldemort to achieve initiation into the Death Eaters. He’d only be able to say it once and then only because of the veritaserum he’d have to take for Kingsley’s questioning. “I want to kill him!”

Jack considered Draco for a moment then shifted his attention to Snape. “You have thirty seconds to explain yourself,” he snapped. “Or I turn him loose.”

“Appearances,” Snape replied. “I have to maintain them to keep my position in Voldemort's circle in order to be a useful spy for your side.”

“You? A spy for us?” Draco scoffed. He stood still in Jack’s hold. “You used to lie better than that, Snape.” He shook his head in disgust. Snape had to be desperate if he thought that excuse was enough to keep him or Jack from killing him.

“He is a spy for us, Mr. Harkness-Jones,” Minerva interjected quietly. “Dumbledore vouched for him before his untimely death.”

“Explain, Mr. Snape,” Jack ordered. “You still have to convince me!”

“Why should I have to explain?” Snape retorted. “I'm not certain what you want from me.”

“I want to know exactly what you did for Dumbledore and why,” Jack demanded. “If I don't get that information within the next hour I will throw you into a dungeon so deep they will have to bring in daylight on dragon back and all your magic won't get you out.”

Snape looked around the room and considered the various children watching this confrontation with interest. He finally nodded to Jack. “"I'd prefer the discussion did not include the children."

“We children will be the ones that will fight your wars for you, Snape,” Harry snapped angrily. “We have a right to know.”

“Unlike Draco, Mr. Potter,” Snape sneered. He stared down his nose at Harry. “You aren't ready to know the things the Death Eaters do for 'fun'.”

“I know exactly what they do.” Harry stared back at Snape. He refused to back down from the professor’s challenge. “I can see it through Voldemort's eyes.”

Jack stared at Harry in shock. That was something he really needed to know for his plans. “And you didn't see fit to tell me this before now?” he said with a snarl.

“It's...” Harry began only to break off for a moment. “It’s hard. At first I thought I was going nuts. Everyone was saying it anyway...” he trailed off, shrugged and almost laughed at the way his fellow students protested their description. “Then one time I saw something and later on someone confirmed it had happened. The thing is I don't think he realizes it’s happening.”

“We'll have to explore that at some point,” Ianto muttered around a yawn. He shook his head in an attempt to stay awake.

“Soon, very soon,” Jack agreed. He released Draco and took a step toward Snape. He held a hand out to the professor and pulled him up from the floor. “I want more information about tonight’s events. I’m still not completely certain of your loyalties. So, report, Severus.”

“You don’t understand, Harkness,” Severus replied. “Draco had to turn to the light right at that moment or Mr. Potter would not succeed.” He shifted his attention to Draco for a moment. “If he hadn’t, I was prepared to kill him and take your daughter, but it would have been all over. Voldemort would have won.”

“You think so?” Jack asked.

“I know so,” Severus replied. “Or at least he would have wreaked enough devastation that the living would envy the dead.” He stared hard at the captain. “You remember that year that never happened? That kind of devastation.”

“Exactly how do you remember that event, Snape?” Jack hissed. He clenched his hands by his side at the reminder of that terrible time.

“I had the bad luck to be taken prisoner about a month before it all ended.”

“I don’t remember you being there,” Jack replied. “And I knew who all the prisoners were.”

“They kept me separate from the others,” Snape explained. “Saxon thought I could help him…” he paused and wrinkled his brow in thought. “Stop the drums? “ He shrugged at a loss for words to explain his situation that year. “I never understood what he wanted, but he was very creative in his persuasion. I was there when your friend fixed it. So,” he smirked, “of course, I kept my memories. It was a gift I could have done without.”

“So could a lot of us,” Jack conceded that point to Snape. “All right, assuming I believe your reasoning…”

“During one of his debriefings, as he called them, I went into a trance. I don’t remember all the details, but this I did remember: _And the prince of the house of snakes must turn to the light or the Champion is lost._ ” Snape stared off into the distance and remembered that moment, trying once again to recapture what he’d heard then, finally shaking his head to banish the thoughts and refocus on Jack. “I told Dumbledore and he told me it had to have been a prophecy. I tried to laugh at him…”

Jack groaned softly. Ianto rested a hand on Jack’s back for a moment before shoving it through his hair. “Shit,” he muttered. He glanced at Jack and let out a breath tiredly. “There’s that confirmation.”

“So you see I had to let things go on until I knew if Draco would jump,” Snape continued as if Ianto hadn’t interrupted him at all. “And he did, thank Merlin.” Snape took a step to one side and collapsed on the sofa. He gave Ginny a faint smile as she pulled her feet out of his way. “I had a rather graphic confirmation of the truth of it not too long after Draco apparated with your daughter.”

“Graphic confirmation,” Ianto repeated. “What’s Voldemort done now?”

“Not Voldemort this time,” Snape replied. “I thought he was going to have a stroke.” He choked out a laugh. “It was the Malfoy tapestry. It burst into flames at the moment Lucius died.” He paused while everyone stared at him and protested in shock of his announcement. “You heard me. It turned to ash in less than a minute. The house elves all fled. The oldest part of the house, at the back, was swaying and creaking. It was chaos.”

“Now that’s strange,” Jack murmured. “I’ve heard… no, couldn’t be…” He shook his head. “All right, Severus, report everything that happened after Draco left.”

Snape nodded. He took a moment to properly compose his thoughts. “Lucius collapsed, bleeding. Voldemort was raging. Bella,” he paused and smiled over at Draco. “Too bad you only hit her shoulder, Draco,” he murmured. “Bella was squealing and throwing hexes in every direction. People were diving for cover. And, I am sorry Draco, but Narcissa walked right up to Voldemort and spit at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a room go quiet more quickly. She spit at him and called him a vicious little monster.” He nodded to Draco in acknowledgement of his shock. “You would have been proud of her.”

“She’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Yes,” Snape murmured. “Lucius was on the floor cursing her. She turned to him and told him to be quiet, that a man so lost to his own family honor as to order his son to rape a little girl had nothing to say. She was magnificent.” He shook his head sadly. “Bella’s _avada kedvara_ caught her in the back. She was dead before she hit the floor and at the same time, Lucius died.” Snape felt the smile begin and chuckled at the kid’s shock when he did so. “And then it happened, the tapestry burst into flames and the house started shaking. Everyone ran. I took the chance and came back here.”

Jack nodded at the report. He reached over and hugged Draco tightly. “All right, for now, I’ll trust you.” He smiled at Severus. “Don’t make me regret it. We’ll need the knowledge you can potentially bring us assuming you are willing to continue as a spy.”

“It’s my job, Harkness,” Snape replied. “I promised Dumbledore I would see it through.”

“Very well,” Jack replied. He looked at the group, down at his watch, and made an executive decision. “It’s late. Kingsley, I know you haven’t had a chance to question Draco yet, but we’re all tired. Can it be done in the morning?”

“Of course,” Kingsley replied. “Since you both agreed to the use of the potion, there will be no question of the veracity of the questioning. The slight delay won’t matter.” The auror smiled over at Minerva. “I'm certain Professor McGonagall can find me a guest room for tonight.”

“Perfect,” Jack agreed. “Minnie, can you arrange rooms for everyone? We’ll get back together for a good long talk after breakfast.”

"Certainly, Mr. Harkness." Minerva shifted to her animagus form and took a swipe at his crotch before flouncing toward the door. As she walked, she shifted back to human form. “Do we understand each other now, Jackie?”

“Perfectly,” Jack squeaked. He gave Ianto an affronted look as his partner attempted in vain to smother his chuckles. He couldn’t stay mad at the young man and leant over to kiss him before addressing everyone in the room. “Everyone to bed,” he ordered. He considered some of the people in the room and sighed. “Preferably your own beds, but just get some sleep wherever you crash. We’ll continue in the morning.”

*** CHAPTER EIGHT ***

Jack sent Ianto off to their bedroom. He watched his partner start to leave the room, pause, and change direction to check on Mica before he went to bed. Jack understood Ianto’s need to be close to their current youngest. He could have lost her if it wasn’t for Draco’s determination to save her. At the thought of Draco, he turned from the main door to their suite to the door of the bedroom the castle had added for the young man.

Jack crossed the few feet separating him from Draco’s room. Hearing voices from within, he paused and listened for a moment yet he couldn’t hear anything clearly as the voices were too soft. Carefully, he eased the door open to peer inside. His newly acquired son was sprawled on his stomach on the bed with Harry lounging beside him rubbing Draco’s back. His sobs were now audible to Jack who took a half-step into the room only to freeze when Harry looked up and shook his head at him.

“He’ll be all right,” Harry mouthed.

Jack considered him for a moment before nodding back at the boy. Jack slipped out of the room; quietly pulled the door closed and headed back out on his original errand, finding Owen or Pommy to look at Ianto. He wanted to be absolutely certain his partner was fine, that there were no adverse effects from the recent stress. As he passed the other doors, he smiled at the sights inside them. Ianto was sitting with Mica, apparently just watching her sleep for a moment, while in Hermione’s room she and Pansy were talking quietly while they changed and rearranged the room’s furniture to better suit them.

Chuckling softly, he headed out of the suite in search of the two medics. He strode through the defense classroom to stand in the hall where he debated which way to go first. He could go looking for Owen or Pommy. Hell, he should check on his daughter and his granddaughter first.

“Oh, shit,” he murmured to the empty hallway. “I’ve got another adult daughter.” He blinked, shook his head and started laughing softly. “I have a wedding to pay for, too.” He wondered if she’d actually let him do that for her. Shaking his head again, he flipped open his wrist strap, sought Gwen’s tracker, and started off down the hall toward where she was currently. He suspected it was a suite of rooms, much like his with Ianto, for her, Rhys and Ginny.

“Ginevra, not Ginny,” he murmured to himself. “Ginevra Cooper-Williams.” He chuckled, smiled and made a note to talk to Toshiko about doing up all the government records for Ginevra. He didn’t want his newest relative to think she wasn’t as wanted as the rest of the kids and grandkids. “Shit, papers for Draco and Pansy, too. Quite the list I need to give Toshiko.”

A glance down at his wrist strap told him he’d reached the right door. Unlike his and Ianto’s suite, Gwen’s was guarded by an actual painting. It was a lovely portrait of an older gentleman in heavy white robes holding a short staff in one hand with a long sash embroidered with short phrases in Welsh and the Welsh dragon. He smiled at the portrait, still not certain about these living paintings, and cautiously knocked on the painting’s frame. “Could you let Gwen know I need to see her for a moment?”

“ _Siarad Cymraeg priodol, dyn ifanc_ ,” the man in the portrait said. Its expression, formerly calm and placid, turned hard and harsh as he glared at Jack.

“Um…” Jack shook his head and sighed. “What?”

“ _Americanwyr_ ,” the portrait grumbled. The stern look remained but the portrait did switch to English for the remainder of the conversation. “It isn’t proper, you know, for you to not speak Welsh. You have a Welsh husband, two Welsh daughters, and do not speak a word of the language.”

“Hey,” Jack protested. “I know one word! _Cariad_.” Still, he ducked his head just a bit and felt himself blushing as he looked up at the portrait. “Not good enough is it?”

“No,” The portrait replied. “It will be important for your future to know the language.” The stern hard look returned as he stared down Jack who finally gave a resigned nod. “Now…” The painting swung away allowing Jack admittance into Gwen’s rooms.

He stepped inside, watching the scene before him quietly, and smiled. It was no surprise to him to see Rhys hovering over Ginevra while firing rapid questions at Pommy about her health. He’d always known Rhys was a potential family man. Now he actually saw that strength from the Welshman. He shifted his attention to Gwen, currently in hushed conversation with the four Weasley boys, and smiled. Jack took a few steps over to rest a hand on Gwen’s shoulder. “Gwen?” he asked softly. “Can I have a minute?”

"Sure, Jack,” Gwen said. She smiled over her shoulder at him. “Give me one more minute, yeah?” She shifted her attention right back to the Weasley boys without waiting for an answer.

“Course,” Jack murmured. “Thanks, Gwen.” Jack slipped away from the somewhat tense conversation Gwen was having with the boys to join Rhys. He watched the Welshman for a long silent moment before he rested a hand on the other man’s arm. He leant over and murmured, “Is Ginny okay?”

“She’s fine,” Rhys replied. His voice was just as low as Jack’s yet his attention never left the girl lying on the sofa. “Exhausted, but fine.” He looked over at Jack for all of ten seconds. “I’m having Madam Pomfrey here check her over just in case though.”

“Good,” Jack said. “Did Pommy explain what happened? I’m still a bit confused.”

“I don’t think she knows herself.” Rhys shook his head and let out a soft breath. “Somehow Gwen and I adopted Ginny here which is supposedly impossible because we aren’t Wizarding folk. It happened, though.” He looked over at Gwen for a moment and smiled in her direction before refocusing on Jack. “I think it was Gwen telling Ianto to tell the magic where to put it.”

“So you think it interpreted her ‘it’ as Ginny?” Jack asked.

“Yeah,” Rhys replied. “I think it did.” He looked down at Ginny again. “I don’t mind. Poor kid. If I ever meet her mother…” he trailed off into silence, but the look he gave Jack spoke volumes.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think she could really have meant it.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Do you? People often say things they don’t mean when they’re upset or angry.”

“Still no reason for a mother to do that,” Rhys replied.

“No, I suppose not,” Jack murmured. “Still, you’re going to have to deal gently with her. Ginny will be upset otherwise.”

“I know.” Rhys nodded, but the anger still lingered in his eyes. It did clear a bit when Gwen wandered over to join them after ushering the Weasley boys out the door. Jack followed his line of sight and smiled at his new daughter.

“Everything okay?”

“As much as it can be,” Gwen replied. “Everyone in the Weasley family is upset and stressed out.”

“To be expected,” Jack said. “And you?”

Gwen threw up her hands. “Well,” she snapped. “Yesterday morning I was a perfectly normal Torchwood agent.” She paused and glared when Rhys snorted at her. “All right, fine, as normal as that can be, with a fiancé and a wedding to plan, and now I have a daughter who’s a witch with several siblings who are going to be part of the family as long as she wants them to. So,” she paused to catch her breath. “There we are!”

Jack chuckled softly. “About that wedding,” he said. He broke off and knew he was starting to flush in response to his thoughts. “Um…”

“Yeah, _Tad_ ,” Gwen replied. She grinned wickedly at him. “You’re getting the bills. Isn’t that how it goes?”

Jack nodded and grinned back at her. “Yeah, it is,” he said. He tentatively hugged her. “I’ll leave you all to get sorted out, but if you need us, call for Mipsy or Libby and send them to get me or Ianto, okay?”

“Jack, these kids…” Gwen started then trailed off. She stared at him all playfulness gone from her expression. “Are they going to be all right? It sounds like something pretty awful is coming.”

Jack looked away, licked his lips, and then looked back. “We’re at war, Gwen,” he conceded. “If we’re lucky we’ll all survive this war, including the kids.”

“All right, then.” Gwen nodded. “You’ll brief us as soon as possible. We’ll need to get more people, Jack.”

“From where, Gwen?” Jack sighed tiredly. “The government here doesn’t believe in this war. Doesn’t even think it’s happening.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “It’s us, a handful of teachers, and bunch of kids to save the world.”

“Martha, Andy, even your friend the Doctor if necessary.” Gwen gave Jack a stern look. “From what I’ve heard about this Dark Lord of theirs, we have to win, Jack. Otherwise, nothing will survive.”

“If I pull them in, who watches the Rift?” Jack shakes his head. He paused for a moment to watch Rhys carry Ginny off to bed. “I doubt the Doctor will help, but I can try to get a hold of him. We do have to win, but the source of our potential victory is a fifteen year old boy who is the centerpiece of a prophecy.”

“Fine,” Gwen snapped. “We Welsh aren’t scared of prophecies. We’ll figure it out.”

“I’m counting on it, Gwen.” Jack shifted a bit to lean on the back of the now empty sofa. “Right now, I’d like to leave Martha and Andy in Cardiff.” He looked away and thought for a bit. “I have a feeling, we’re going to need a place to run to and based on Ianto and Draco’s comments, I think the Rift will give us some protection from Voldemort.” He shook his head again. “It’s nothing like Ianto’s feelings, but just from my experiences in war.”

“Then maybe we should go, too,” Rhys interjected as he returned to the sitting room. “We can be your eyes and ears outside.” He smiled at Jack. “And we can start preparing for a war. I think you’ll need mundane as well as magical weapons, medicines, all sorts of things.”

“I was looking into those people who may be helping this Voldemort,” Gwen added. “If we take them down, less support for him.”

“Give it a week, spend some time with Ginny, and then head back,” Jack agreed. “We’re on winter holiday break here and there’s been nothing from any of the usual sources on this side of things to show Voldemort moving anytime soon.”

“Jack,” Gwen began. “Is Ginny mature enough to help? Because I was thinking…”

“We can’t keep her out. We tried.” Jack looked over at the door to Ginny’s room. “She pushed Ianto until he started teaching her.” He lowered his voice. “Her best friend is involved, Gwen. I know that she is and she lives through this.”

“Well, then,” Gwen murmured. “I was thinking that if we took some of the kids with us to help track down whoever is helping this Voldemort we could make real headway. Ginny, her blonde friend who looks like she doesn’t have a thought in her head, and maybe one or two of the others. They could help us spot the magic behind what may seem normal and they can help us figure out what to look for.”

Jack laughed softly and then nodded. “I may talk to Minerva and see if that’s possible.” He grinned widely as he thought of the seemingly brainless blonde Gwen mentioned. “Luna Lovegood. She’s the blonde. She has to survive this war no matter what, Gwen. She has to.”

“And the boy she’s always with?” Gwen asked. “I’ve seen him use non-magical things as if he were used to them. There’s something about him…” she trailed off and shook her head. “Reminds me of someone but I’ll be damned if I know who.”

Jack slung an arm around her shoulders and hugged her for a moment. “Luna Lovegood and Blaise Zabini,” he murmured. “I didn’t realize who he was until he started ranting on the mobile.” He stared intently at her for a long moment. “Let’s say they are close to me.”

Gwen stared at Jack for a moment. Then the realization dawned on her. “Jack, your life makes me dizzy,” she complained. “All right, those two and Ginny come with us. We keep training them in weapons and other… what do they call it?… muggle things and they’ll help us hunt down the traitors on our side.”

“It confuses me, too,” Jack nodded. “And that doesn’t even include the time I traveled with the Doctor.” He shrugged one shoulder. “As soon as I can clear it with Minerva, I’ll send them to you.” He looked from her to Rhys. He gave them both an intent look. “One thing, be prepared to have the rest of us show up at some point. I expect we’ll have to abandon the castle.”

“I figured something like that,” Gwen replied. She nodded and stepped over to lean against Rhys’s chest. “We can turn the lower levels in the Hub into emergency quarters and stockpile whatever we need. With magic it will be easier to move things around.”

“Let’s all get to bed,” Rhys added. “I’m sure you want Ianto to see the doctors tomorrow. Besides, I have a feeling the rest of the Weasleys will descend on us before too long.”

“Before you leave here, we’ll look into a few house elves to help you,” Jack said. “And yes, the Weasleys will show up. I’m going to check in on Owen and Tosh before I head to bed.”

“Doing the rounds, Papa?” Rhys asked with a smug grin.

“Yeah.” Jack blushed but nodded. “Yeah, I just… I need to be certain all the family is okay before I can relax.” He sighed softly. “It’s a thing.”

“I have a feeling that I’m heading in that direction myself,” Rhys said. His tones were totally sympathetic to Jack. “I may not know how we got into this, but we’re in for the long haul. Ginny, the Weasleys, everything else.”

Jack clapped Rhys on the shoulder. “Welcome to Torchwood, Rhys.”

“No, Jack,” Rhys replied. “It’s more like welcome to the family.”

Jack laughed gaily. “That, too.” He gave Rhys a quick hug before stepping away. “I told Ianto that it’s the House of Torchwood not Harkness-Jones. He didn’t listen.”

“The House of Harkness-Jones,” Gwen repeated around almost hysterical laughter. “Protectors of the Earth.”

Jack tried and failed to look sternly at her before grinning widely. “It sure seems that way,” he said, “doesn’t it?”

Gwen nodded as she stepped out of Rhys’s light hold. She stepped up to Jack and gave him a hug. “ _Nos da, tad_ ,” she murmured and kissed his cheek. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Night, m’girl,” Jack replied. He kissed the top of her head, hugged her tightly, and stepped away toward the door. “See you at breakfast.” He nodded to Rhys as he slipped out their suite’s door. He headed back toward his and Ianto’s room but paused along the way to check on Toshiko and Owen. He reached Toshiko’s rooms first, turned to knock on the small gong in front of the screen guarding her room and blinked in shock. The usual ivy and morning glory screen had changed. A calligraphy scroll now hung from the screen. Jack read the scroll, listened closely and, blushing, resolved to talk to Toshiko and Owen in the morning. Now, it was time to snuggle up with Ianto and think of their future.

*** CHAPTER NINE ***

Restless and a bit more than half awake, Draco shifted in a vain attempt to roll over and go back to sleep. However, an arm tightened around his stomach while a sleepy murmur of protest stirred the hair by his ear. He tensed, uncertain if he should run screaming from the bed or press back into that welcoming warmth. Another soft murmur in his ear followed by a familiar fearful whimper caused Draco to relax toward sleep again. “Harry?” he asked softly. He squirmed about as carefully as he could until he lay on his back, his head turned toward where the other boy lay sleeping beside him. “Harry?”

Another sleepy murmur accompanied a shift closer toward his body. By the time Harry finished moving about, his head was on Draco’s shoulder, cold nose buried in his neck, while one leg and arm were thrown across his body firmly keeping Draco in the bed. Even if he wanted to get up and, if he were honest with himself, he didn’t, there was no way in hell Draco would be able to move very far with Harry impersonating a particularly tenacious Devil’s Snare.

Unable to escape from Harry, Draco lay back amongst the myriad of pillows on his bed. He wanted to sleep yet his mind was far too restless to let him sleep deeply or long. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Mica writhing on the floor as his aunt cursed the child. Or his mind would conjure up images, too unspeakable to articulate even to himself in the silence of his mind, of what could have happened to her if he’d been unable to get them away. Never mind what would have happened to him. The thought of her being tortured and abused turned his stomach. Draco swallowed hard, forcing the bile back down again, and bit hard on his lip. He forced those thoughts away with a full body shudder deliberately focusing on something else.

His shudder must have disturbed Harry for the arm wrapped around his stomach tightened again. A soft sigh slipped from his lips. Draco absently brought his arm up to stroke his hand repeatedly over Harry’s back. A tiny hint of a laugh escaped him as he thought about the last time he saw his father. Even considering the desperate circumstances, it was well worth a laugh to see his father so at a loss for words. The image of his crossed-eyes at the appearance of the Sig Sauer was worth even more; however, thoughts of his father brought to mind his mother.

His beautiful, if remote, mother. Killed by her own sister. For so many years, he’d thought her a vapid brainless blonde. Finding her school records after he started Hogwarts had made him resent her. Draco still, even though she was dead, hated the fact that his mother let his father turn her into nothing more than the Malfoy matriarch after she’d been a brain to rival Hermione in school. He knew for all that he resembled his father in looks, he got his mind from his mother. Staring up at the distant ceiling, Draco vowed vengeance for Narcissa. And for his newly acquired ‘Tad’, whatever that word meant. It was up to him to avenge the honor of the family since there was no way for Ianto to do so while pregnant and Jack, for all his courage, knew nothing of that part of the Wizarding World.

“You’re awfully tense.” Harry’s sleepy voice interrupted Draco’s musings. “It’s too early. Go back to sleep.”

“Can’t,” Draco replied. “You go back to sleep, _cher._ I’ll be fine.”

Harry’s head came up off his shoulder. Disturbingly awake green eyes stared down at him from beneath sleep tousled black hair. “I can’t sleep when you’re this tense,” Harry said. “So, talk to me. Maybe if you talk, you’ll be able to sleep.”

“Malfoy’s don’t talk about their problems.”

“Ah, but you’re not a Malfoy anymore, remember?” Harry grinned down at Draco. He slowly reached over and ran his fingers down the other boy’s neck. “You’re a Harkness-Jones. And that bunch certainly doesn’t hold back on their opinions. Just look at ‘Mione.”

“Can we not?” Draco snarked. Now that Harry was sitting up, he rolled out of bed and began stripping off his clothes. He wanted nothing more to do with that black suit. As he stripped, he realized it was stained with blood, but at least nothing had gotten through to his own skin. “Not only is she apparently now my sister, she’s not my type.”

“And just what is your type then?”

There was something in Harry’s voice which caused Draco to pause in his haphazard tossing of clothes onto the floor. He twisted a bit to peer over his shoulder at the other boy, but for all his skill at reading people, he saw nothing to tell him what Harry was thinking at that moment. “Doesn’t matter, Potter,” he said. “The person I’m currently interested in has an obligation to his name and bloodline to have heirs.”

“That’s bullocks, Draco,” Harry snapped. “Just look at Jack and Ianto. They didn’t let obligations stop them.”

“Ianto’s a special case.” Draco tossed his pants aside, turned and rested his hands on his hips. He glared at the other boy. “One, until this year, he wasn’t a member of the Wizarding World. Two, he’s one of those very rare males who can carry a child. Not only that but he has successfully done it once, so he could potentially give Jack an heir.”

“Who’s to say you aren’t?” Harry interrupted. “Or the person you're interested in isn't?” He returned Draco’s glare with one of his own despite the temptation to stare at more intimate portions of Draco’s anatomy. Did the pureblood have to put his hands on his hips like that, especially when he was nude? “Besides, hasn't this whole mess shown you anything about the dangers of sticking strictly to duty to bloodlines?”

“It’s all I know, Harry!”

"Haven't you been listening to Professor's Jones and Harkness at all this year?” Harry rolled out of the other side of the bed, turning his back to Draco long enough to get his reaction to the blonde’s nudity back under control. Then he turned back to snap, “Broaden your mind and start to think about things besides duty.”

"I have been listening!” Draco impatiently shoved a hand through his hair. “Do you honestly think the boy you first met... hell, the one you knew last year for that matter... would have saved a half-blood girl from the Death Eaters?" He punctuated the description of Mica with a hard stab of his finger in the general direction of her bedroom. “But that doesn’t matter when it comes to family!”

"No, you're right.” Harry conceded that point to Draco. “The Draco Malfoy I met would never have done that. But you're not Draco Malfoy anymore; you're Draco Harkness-Jones." Harry quickly stripped off his t-shirt and tossed it away. “And if there's one thing I've learned about the Harkness-Jones's, it's that they do things their own way. Including family.”

"Fine! I'm Draco Harkness-Jones. That doesn't fucking matter.” Draco all but screamed the words at his friend. “You're still Harry James Potter. Only son and heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter!”

"And that doesn't fucking matter to me!” Harry hissed back. “I've been miserable my entire life until I came here. If you think that I'm going to let a chance at happiness slip by because of family duty, then you're sadly mistaken. There's a very real chance that I won't survive the coming war, whether we win or not.” He held up a hand to still any protest Draco might have made. He was so tired of people interrupting him when he admitted the very real truth there was every chance that victory would come at the cost of his life. “Aren't I allowed to be happy in the meantime?”

“Of course you are,” Draco growled. “Dammit…”

“Then why won’t you let us be happy?” Harry interrupted again. “If only until I…”

“What?” Draco blinked. He’d lost the train of the conversation somewhere. Seriously lost it, but he did know one thing. “You’re not dying, Harry.”

“No one’s guaranteeing that either,” Harry retorted. He quickly finished stripping off his clothes, climbed into bed and tugged the covers up over himself. He patted the spot next to him and smiled at the other boy. “The prophecy says that neither Voldemort nor I will live while the other survives.”

Without thought, Draco climbed into bed by Harry, propped the pillows behind himself and settled the covers comfortably. He thought about the prophecy line Harry paraphrased and shook his head. “It is accurate. Neither of you are really living. Just surviving while trying to destroy each other.” He sighed quietly while running the full prophecy though his mind. “Nothing in the prophecy says you have to die in order to defeat him.”

“Nothing says I don’t either,” Harry murmured. He shifted about in the bed until he was once again able to rest his head on Draco’s shoulder. Carefully, he curled his arm around the other boy’s waist and hummed appreciatively when Draco began stroking his back again. It was only here, at Hogwarts, that he received such comforting touches and Harry adored every one. “So I’ve decided to live for the moment and take what I want when I can get it.”

“So, I’m what you want?” Draco murmured. He tilted his head just a bit to look down at Harry. A hint of a laugh escaped him as Harry peered innocently, yet intently back up at him. It was a look he was very familiar with as his father had worn similar ones when first working his wiles on a new mistress. “Are you attempting to seduce me?”

“What if I am?” Harry purred. His hand stroked across Draco’s stomach feeling the muscles tense and release beneath his palm. “Hmm?”

“It’s a bit disturbing.” He sucked in a sharp breath when Harry’s nail ran across his lower stomach. “Seriously, you look like you’re sizing me up to be your dinner.” He wasn’t about to mention how much Harry was reminding him of his father as well.

“Well, there were times when I was desperately hungry as a kid,” Harry began, “but despite those I don’t have any cannibalistic tendencies.” He shifted a bit, letting his hand slip down to rest on the bed on the other side of Draco, and brought his other hand up to cup the blonde’s cheek. He stroked his thumb over the boy’s lower lip with a small smile before slowly leaning in to kiss him. Harry let Draco lead the kiss, letting it slowly deepen and become exploratory before he broke away to draw in a desperately needed calming breath. “However, I do have to admit to wondering what you taste like.”

“Taste?” Draco almost squeaked the word. He shook his head with a tiny disparaging laugh. “What are we doing, _cher_?”

“I’m taking full advantage of the fact we’re now naked in a bed together while you play hard to get by distracting me,” Harry said. He chuckled at Draco’s perturbed look before sobering. “Does my interest really disturb you that much?”

“No!” Draco rushed the word out then repeated it more calmly. “No, not at all. I just…” He trailed off for a moment, closed his eyes and swallowed hard before opening his eyes to stare intently at Harry. “Harry, I…” he paused again, took a deep breath and released it slowly. Gathering up all his courage, most of which he seemed to have left behind at the now destroyed Malfoy Manor, Draco reached up and wrapped his arms around Harry’s neck. “I pride myself on knowing anything I need to, Harry, but I was raised to think this, this whatever it is between us, was one of the most twisted of relationships which ruined society. I didn’t allow myself to…”

“Hope?”

“Maybe.” Draco shook his head for a moment. “If you were a girl, Harry, I’d probably be all over you right now because I know how to handle them, what to do with them, but you, _m’cher_ , you I have no idea at all what to do with, besides this…” He broke off, slipped his hands up and tangled them into Harry’s hair. Draco used that hold to pull Harry in for a long leisurely kiss which finally broke when they both needed to breathe again. “This is too new for me, and I don't think I'm ready. Not for more.” He looked away not wanting to see Harry’s expression. “I'm sorry, Harry.”

He smiled and slowly shifted about until he could straddle Draco’s legs. Curling a hand along Draco’s jaw, Harry gently urged Draco to look up at him. All the confusion swimming in those silvery-blue eyes he’d come to adore just stirred something in him. He smiled and pressed one final kiss to Draco’s lips. Then he crawled off the bed. "I think I love you, Draco. I'll wait for as long as it takes."

*** CHAPTER TEN ***

Jack propped himself up on one elbow and watched Ianto sleep. He was stretched out on his back with one arm stretched out above his head and the other resting on his lower stomach just above his groin. He was still in the loose pants and tight t-shirt from the night before, though the t-shirt had bunched up to mid-chest, baring the slight swell of his abdomen. He reached out his hand but paused inches from Ianto’s skin. He didn’t want to wake his partner. Ianto needed his sleep, but Jack so wanted to touch, to feel, the life under the flesh, Ianto and the baby.

“You can touch you know,” Ianto murmured.

Jack jumped then chuckled softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” he whispered. He lowered his hand slowly to rest on that hint of a swell and rubbed his palm back and forth. “Isn’t it early for me to see this?”

“I think so,” Ianto replied. He shifted the pillows a bit to prop himself up but didn’t actually move from his position. It was comfortable. “It took months for me to show with Mica.” He closed his eyes for a moment remembering before smiling up at Jack. “I actually felt her moving before you could tell that I was carrying.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I want to talk to Owen, maybe Pommy, and get things checked out. Owen did the test, but no exams yet.”

“I went looking for them last night because I was worried, but they were busy. Well, Owen was anyway.” Jack blushed across his cheekbones but still smiled at Ianto. “Yes, I’m going to hover over you. I didn’t get to with Lucia or Monica’s mother, so…”

“Half of me loves the idea,” Ianto said. “The other half wants to run away screaming.”

"If I promise to keep it to a minimum, will you love it?" Jack gave his partner a beseeching look before shifting his attention to Ianto’s belly again. It was hard to believe his still baby-faced lover was carrying his child. That there was new life nestled beneath his hand. He looked up at Ianto for a moment then leant forward to press a kiss to that slight bulge following the caress with a soft whisper. “Hey, baby, it’s Daddy.”

Ianto vainly tried to stifle a chuckle as Jack’s lips moved against his skin. He was ticklish there. It took all his willpower not to laugh or squirm. “All right,” Ianto agreed. “But you don’t get to decide the minimum.” He chuckled as Jack lifted his head from his stomach to pout up at him.

“But, Ianto!”

“Oh, no, Jack Harkness,” Ianto retorted. “I know you. I tell you when to back off.” He smiled and reached out a hand to caress Jack’s cheek. He curled his hand around the back of Jack’s neck to pull his lover up for a leisurely kiss. “I promise to let you indulge your protective side from time to time.”

“Thank you, love,” Jack murmured. He kissed Ianto again. His hand stroking along his partner’s side until it rested over their baby again. “You are definitely getting looked at, though.”

“That we are agreed on,” Ianto said. “If this one carries as much power as Mica, I need to know how to handle it.” He dropped his head back onto the pillows and sighed. “I shudder to think all the trouble I could have gotten into with her. I dodged a bullet with that one, Jack.”

“How you managed to hide being pregnant from London, I’ll never know.”

“Bigger jackets, slightly different tailoring,” Ianto replied. He shrugged and laughed. “London was all about power, Jack. Archivists didn’t rate. Stupid because we knew where everything was, how it worked, where to find it, but they didn’t look at us. We were research tools, nothing else.”

“I know,” Jack replied. He knew London’s failings far better than nearly anyone still alive, aside from Ianto. “But the thought of what they could have done if they’d known…” he trailed off for a moment. He swallowed hard and banished any imaginings to the depths of his mind. “It terrifies me.” He gave a bitter chuckle. “On a different note, Rhys has the ‘doting parent’ thing down already.”

“He better,” Ianto replied. He smirked and stared off into the distance for a bit. “I’m not much for divination, but I have a feeling…”

"You may not believe, but I do.” Jack grinned widely at Ianto. “Between that creepy little girl in Cardiff and your tendency to be amazingly accurate with your hunches, I've learned to believe."

Ianto shook his head. He had no belief in divination. It was far too inexact no matter what Trelawney thought about the subject. He shifted a bit, sitting up and tugging his t-shirt down. He seriously considered actually getting up for about thirty seconds before nausea had him falling back against the pillows again. That was one symptom of pregnancy he really could have lived without.

“Daddy!” Mica’s high treble echoed from the door even as someone knocked. The door swung open to show their three kids standing there. Mica ran in, screaming for Daddy at the top of her lungs, and dragged Draco along in her wake. “Daddy! Daddy! I got Draco!” she screeched. She scrambled up onto the bed and jumped on Jack’s lap. “Morning, Tad!” Mica leant over, kissed Ianto’s cheek and pointed at Draco. “I got Draco!”

“So I see,” Ianto replied. He ruffled her hair and smiled over at the teenagers. He barely refrained from laughing at the scene as Hermione hummed ‘I’ve Got You Babe’ under her breath and Draco smacked the back of her head.

“Cut it out,” Draco snapped. He pouted at her for a moment before sighing softly. “It’s bad enough when Harry does that!”

“Harry sings ‘I’ve Got You Babe’ to you, Draco?” Hermione asked. A sly smile graced her lips as he blushed before rolling his eyes at her.

“He hums and sings whatever it is you’re humming every single time I give into something Mica is begging for.” Draco leant his shoulder against the post of the bed and crossed his arms over his chest. “I have no idea what it is!”

“Remind me to introduce you to Sonny and Cher, Draco.” Ianto smiled at the children. “Now, everyone, time for breakfast.” He lifted Mica off Jack’s lap and set her on the floor. “Outside while we dress. Hermione, please ask Mipsy to bring us some food.”

“Tad!” Hermione protested loudly. “That’s slavery. You should be…”

“Don’t you get it,” Draco interrupted harshly. “They like to work. They enjoy it.”

“I don’t care if they like it, you should treat them as more than slaves,” Hermione snapped. She glared at everyone in the room for a moment before something dawned on her. “Wait, why are your elves so different? Mipsy and Libby are nothing like Dobby.”

“Did you know for centuries the Blacks were the premier diplomatic family in both the Wizarding and Muggle worlds? Renowned for always being able to find the right word, the right compromise?” Ianto asked his oldest daughter. “For knowing everything there was to know about a situation? How do you think we got the information?”

Hermione blinked at Ianto then shook her head. “No, I didn’t.” She ducked her head with a blush, embarrassed that she didn’t know something so important, and hid a bit behind her hair. “I never heard or read that. So, you got the information from the elves?”

“Not quite,” Ianto said. He shifted to sit up in the bed and smiled at her. “We trained the elves to gather the information. The Blacks had quite an extensive espionage net and, in the Wizarding side, it was mostly composed of educated house elves.”

“My mother never told me,” Draco murmured. A shadow crossed his face at the mention of his mother before it was wiped away. “Not once.”

“She didn’t know,” Ianto said. “The Blacks dropped out of the diplomatic business and went out of their way to erase all traces of their doings, but the elves were still there and they trained their children.” He smiled in remembrance. “When I left the family, Libby contacted me and told me all about it.”

“So that’s how you know everything!” Jack exclaimed.

“That’s how I can if I need to,” Ianto corrected.

“It’s just…” Hermione trailed off and pondered for a moment. “Difficult to reconcile.”

“Draco is right, Hermione.” Ianto shifted his attention to focus completely on her. “They do like to work and without attachment to a family they become despondent.” He inclined his head to her in acknowledgement of her points. “But you’re right, too. They’re not stupid, they’re not drones and they shouldn’t be treated as such.”

“I’m going to have to learn a whole new set of rules,” Hermione mused. “Aren’t I?”

“Think of it as learning the ins and outs of the family business,” Ianto corrected. “Don’t worry, though, Draco’s going to be right there beside you.”

Hermione laughed as Draco glared at Ianto. “Me?” he asked. “I thought I had different future employment.” Draco pointedly glared over at Jack. “Or so the Captain implied.”

“It’s all part of it, Draco,” Jack added laughing. “If you think I’m not going to use this convenient network of Ianto’s, you don’t quite get it yet.” He looked at both teenagers for a moment, giving them the stern Captain’s look rather than the indulgent father look he’d been wearing since they’d burst into the bedroom. “And, by the way, kids, this remains a family secret. Harry and Pansy get told if and when.”

Draco thought for a moment and nodded. “Of course, sir,” he said. He looked over at Hermione and sighed at her pout. “They aren’t family.”

“They might need to know sometime,” Ianto added. “But it would be foolish to let the enemy know you have a good weapon.”

“Then Harry doesn’t know.” Draco held up a hand to Hermione to forestall her protests. “Think about it, ‘Mione, Harry’s linked to Voldemort. We know that he can see and read Voldemort’s mind, what’s to say it doesn’t work in reverse?”

“I don’t like it,” Hermione said flatly. “But you’re right. He gets told if and when he needs to know it.” She released a breath and nodded. “All right.” She held a hand out to Mica. “Mica, let’s let Tad and Daddy get dressed while Libby helps you get dressed. I want to talk to Mipsy for a while.” She looked over at Draco. “Come’n, Draco. We both need to learn the family business.”

Draco growled softly and rolled his eyes again. “You’re really taking being ten months older than me far too seriously.”

“I’m going to milk it for all it’s worth, brother,” Hermione replied. “You just wait and see.”

“Great,” Draco snarked. He looked back at Jack. “Auror Shaklebolt is waiting on you, sir.”

“Invite him to breakfast,” Jack ordered. “We can soften him up a little.”

“Yes, sir,” Draco said. He waved everyone out of the room, chuckling softly at Ianto’s slight green tinge, and pulled the door shut behind him as he left.

“I’m not sure you and Draco should have been paired up,” Ianto muttered. “You complain about my Slytheriness, but you could give lessons to Salazar, himself, when it suits you.”

Jack laughed softly. “Come’n, Ianto,” he urged. “Up you get. We’ll get a quick shower and dress.” He thought back to the previous night and sighed. “There’s something I need to tell you before Gwen arrives. I told her last night…” he trailed off and cursed. “Shit, I have to tell her and Rhys not to say anything it could cause a paradox.”

“Jack?” Ianto asked. He was confused as to what Jack could have told Gwen which could potentially be a problem. “Is this about Luna?”

“And Blaise,” Jack leant down and kissed Ianto quickly before grabbing a t-shirt and the trousers from the day before to throw on. “I’ll be right back. I have to warn her and then I’ll come back to explain things to you.”

“You better,” Ianto said sternly. “I don’t appreciate it that Gwen learned whatever this is first.”

*** CHAPTER ELEVEN ***

Jack bounded back into the bedroom looking for Ianto. His ears still rang a bit from the lecture about timelines, the Doctor, and knowing better than to cause a paradox. He grumbled about her, but froze when he realized the bedroom was as empty as the sitting room had been on his way through. He was about to call for Mipsy to find Ianto when he heard the distinctive sound of someone being violently ill. Clenching his jaw, Jack crossed the room, slipped through the cracked open bathroom door, and crouched down beside Ianto. “Oh, Ianto,” he murmured. He brushed his hand over his lover’s hair before helping to steady him. When Ianto finished, Jack shifted him to lean against his chest while he reached for a cup of water. “Sip it,” Jack ordered. “It’s better that way.”

Once Jack was certain Ianto wasn’t going to throw up again, he picked the younger man up and carried him to their bed. He settled Ianto amongst the pillows before returning to the bathroom for a cool damp cloth to bathe Ianto’s face. He pressed a kiss to his partner’s lips, tossed the cloth away and called “Mipsy? Crackers and tea for Ianto, please.”

The requested materials appeared on the bedside table. Jack handed the tea to Ianto, waited a moment to be certain Ianto could handle the drink without getting sick again, and smiled. “Be right back,” he murmured. “I’m going to see if the kids are back and ask Hermione and Pansy to keep an eye on Mica for a bit.”

“Okay,” Ianto murmured. He sipped slowly at the tea, torn between happiness at Jack’s attention and frustration that he was so sick so early. He watched the man rush out of the room and lazily reached for the crackers. The other man was gone for less than five minutes before he rushed back into the room, sprawled on the bed beside Ianto, and grabbed the cracker plate to hold it within easy reach. A soft chuckle escaped him as he traded the tea for another cracker. “I get it, Jack, you’re sorry.”

“But, Ianto…”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful,” Ianto continued. He reached over and briefly clasped Jack’s hand. “I don’t remember being this sick with Mica. So, relax, and tell me.”

“You sure you don’t want me to get Pommy first?”

“No,” Ianto replied. “We’ll get her and Owen to look me over later on when I can walk to the infirmary without listing like a leaky boat.” He smiled, reached over and stroked Jack’s cheek. “Stop worrying and tell me, you _twpsyn_.”

Jack pouted, but settled more comfortably beside Ianto. “I told Gwen last night that we have to be certain Luna and Blaise survive this war.”

“All right,” Ianto said. “Now tell me why.”

Jack sighed softly. He looked off into the distance. His eyes going unfocused as his sometimes repressed childhood memories drifted across the landscape of his mind. He sighed again and shook his head to force the memories away again. “I’m related to them.”

“You’re...” Ianto trailed off and stared at Jack. “Oh Lord.” He thought for a long moment but his mind just couldn’t accept it from that one sentence. “The people of the Boeshane are wizards? But you’ve never...” he trailed off again. “No, just tell me.”

“We never separated things like you do here.” Jack sighed again. “You people and your labels.” He absently shoved a hand through his hair before smiling at Ianto. He wanted to tell him everything, but knew he couldn’t because of the timelines. The last thing he needed was an angry Time Lord showing up in the middle of this mess. “That creature Luna’s always searching for? That’s a particularly vicious predator in the Boeshane.” He laughed softly. “There was a story, a legend, my mother told me often as a child. It was about a prince saving his sister from vicious relatives before joining his lover for a war. His house was destroyed. I think I just lived through the aftermath of the origin of the tale.”

“Draco and Mica are a fairy tale in your world?” Ianto chuckled and shook his head. “Honestly, Jack, only… oh fuck.” He shifted a bit to stare at his lover. “There’s a good chance your son is also your ancestor.” Jack’s frown and the mere thought of them raising one of Jack’s ancestors sent Ianto into rolling hysterics.

“That’s enough, Ianto.” Jack mock glared at his lover but couldn’t resist a faint chuckle of his own. Ianto did have a point; it could be a bit funny if that was the case indeed. “I know exactly who I’m descended from and there’s no Harknesses, Joneses, or Malfoys in my family. I’m descended from Luna and Blaise,” he said. “Though I didn’t realize about Blaise until recently.”

“That’s what you think, Jack.” Ianto settled on his side and reached out to cup Jack’s cheek. He leant forward and pressed his lips to the other man’s for a quick chaste kiss. “You’re in a patriarchal society, Jack. If Harry and Draco have a child and that child has a child and that child has a girl and she in turn married into Luna’s line. Well, then, Draco would have been your ancestor.” He thought for a moment. “Although, honestly, with your hair color, Hermione and Pansy, or maybe Mica, are more likely.”

“What?” Jack demanded. “I’m not getting it, Ianto. I know my mother was a Lovegood. There’s no denying the blonde curls.” He smiled at the memory of his mother. “Very distinctive... but...”

“Never mind, Jack.” Ianto chuckled one last time before calming. “I’m just taking the piss a little. Payback for telling Gwen first.” Before Ianto could continue to tease Jack about telling Gwen this news before him, Mipsy returned, collected the original tea things and handed another cup of herbal tea to Ianto.

“Sir, I was worried,” Mipsy said quietly. The little house elf had changed her uniform out to show that she was a Harkness-Jones elf now. Not just any Harkness-Jones elf, but the senior house elf in the household. “I’ve asked Doctor Harper to come see you.”

“Thank you, Mipsy,” Ianto murmured. He smiled at her. The little navy blue dress topped with a tiny white French apron she wore looked a lot like a scaled down maids uniform with a small crest on the upper right chest. Ianto stared hard at the crest. It took him moment to recognize the design. Myfanwy clasped the Torchwood logo in her claws as she flew toward the viewer. The base of the crest was blue while the design was brown accented with silver metallic threads. Ianto wondered who created it, but one look at Mipsy’s wide smile before she popped out again told him it was their house elves that created it. He looked over at Jack and shook his head, a bit resigned. “Well, that served me right for having an opinionated elf for a family retainer.”

“Was that a crest? I didn’t know we had a crest.” Jack laughed and reached out to ruffle Ianto’s hair. “Like you’d have it any other way,” he said. He grinned at Ianto’s affronted look before rolling off the bed. He started looking for clothes for them both while he spoke to his partner. “And Mipsy was mine first, remember.” He opened the chest, pulled out a loose pants and a loose t-shirt and held them up to Ianto. When he nodded, Jack tossed them over to the other man. “Libby was yours, but I think she’s taken up nanny duty to Mica.” He thought for a moment as he grabbed clothes for himself. “Speaking of elves, how do we get a few for Gwen and Rhys?”

“We do now,” Ianto agreed. “That was definitely a crest for us.” He shook his head with a soft laugh, set his empty teacup on the bedside table and started to dress. “We can use the Malfoy elves.” He tilted his head to one side and pondered for a moment. “I inherit them and whatever will remain of the Malfoy fortune as the next oldest male relation. It comes to me via Aunt Narcissa.” He shook his head with a tired sigh. “I’ll talk to the Goblins at Gringotts about setting up a trust for Draco when he comes of age. I really don’t need that money as well as the Lestrange fortune and my Torchwood salary.” He smiled sadly. “Anyway, we give the former Malfoy elves to Mipsy and Libby for a few weeks of training and they’ll be well on their way. Libby is in charge of basic training for mine.”

“Think it’ll work?” Jack asked. He threw on his chosen clothes. Dark slacks, blue shirt over white t-shirt and topped with a darker blue waistcoat. He belted on his gun and turned to lean back against the chest while slipping his boots on. “What about the kids, aside from Mica, do they get an elf of their own?”

“Not now,” Ianto replied quickly. “Kids shouldn’t get used to having someone do for them. Look what it almost did to Draco.” He settled back on the bed and bent with a soft groan to put his shoes on. He laughed softly when Jack rushed over to kneel and deal with them for him. “Mica is a baby. She needs a nanny right now.” He smiled at Jack, leant forward and kissed his forehead. “Once she’s old enough, she does for herself and Libby transfers to this one.” He leant back on his elbows and rested one hand on his stomach.

“I still want you checked out,” Jack murmured. He reached forward and rested his hand over Ianto’s. “I’m worried.” He looked up at Ianto from his place on the floor. “You were so sick when I came back from Gwen’s.”

“I’m fine, _cariad_ ,” Ianto murmured. “But Owen is on his way, so I don’t think I have a choice about being examined.”

“Mipsy is as interested in this as we are,” Jack said. He sighed softly and rubbed his hand over Ianto’s stomach. “If I asked,” he paused for a moment. “If I asked, would you go back to Cardiff with Gwen?”

“No.”

“It would be safer for you,” Jack said.

“It’s not negotiable, Jack,” Ianto replied. “I will stay out of the front lines, but I’m the best coordinator you have and you know it.”

“I don’t like it.” Jack bit his lip for a moment. He knew if he pushed, Ianto would come to hate him, yet he really didn’t like the idea of his pregnant partner being in such danger. “And I want you to have a way to get there quickly if things go south on us here.” He gave Ianto a stern look. “I’m not going to lose you or this baby. I assume you’re going to want to keep Mica here as well.”

“Yes.” Ianto stroked Jack’s hair and face in an attempt to soothe him. “I can still apparate, Jack.” He smiled, kissed Jack softly, and continued, “And Libby can help me. There’s also Myfanwy. She’ll defend me, Mica and the baby. We’ll be fine.”

“If I let you stay,” Jack began. “You promise me you’ll be ready to leave at a moment’s notice.”

“I’m not a fool, Jack.” Ianto shifted a bit but nodded. He understood Jack’s worry. He’d read the archives and knew that Jack had lost many children while working for Torchwood. Usually because their mothers didn’t want him around them, plus there were the events with Hermione. “I’m not going to risk my children. If I need to make a run for it, I will.”

“I’m hovering too much, aren’t I?” Jack murmured. He gave his partner a rueful look. “You’re getting snappy.”

“Yes, you are,” Ianto said. “But I understand why. Now, what else do we have to do today?” Ianto asked. “Besides seeing Snape.” He gave Jack a hard look. “I need to know about Mica, Jack.”

“Draco’s questioning, talk to Minerva about sending Ginny, Blaise and Luna to Cardiff, and brace ourselves for a Weasley invasion.” Jack listed each item as he ticked them off on his fingers. “I know you do. I want to know about her as well.”

“Busy day…” Ianto began only to break off at a hard knock on their bedroom door. He looked over and smiled a welcome to Owen. The doctor looked like he’d hardly slept, been awakened rudely and was desperate for coffee. Ianto chuckled, reached over for his wand and conjured coffee for both Owen and Jack with another smile. He started to conjure a cup for himself now that his stomach had settled down, but yelped instead when a hard smack was delivered to his knuckles by an old fashioned wooden spoon. “Mipsy!”

“Sir!” she snapped back. “No coffee for you. It’s bad for the babies.” She gave him a hard look, handed over another cup of tea and nodded. “You have tea or juice or milk or water. No coffee!” She popped out again before Ianto could react to her announcement.

Ianto stared at his mug of tea for a moment, the last few minutes running through his head again, and then yelped for a second time. He stared wildly between Jack and Owen, the mug almost dropping from his hand in his shock, and squeaked, “Did she say babies?”

*** CHAPTER TWELVE ***

“She did,” Owen said. He desperately drank the coffee. He had to wake up completely. He considered for a moment and then looked over at Jack. “Can you call Mipsy back? I don’t think she answers to me.”

“She wouldn’t,” Ianto said. He could hear his voice shaking. His hands shook as well. Yet, he took comfort in explaining things to Owen as he often did in the Hub. “You’re not direct family, but a relative of the main line which is mine and Jack’s descendents.” He wrapped both hands around the mug Mipsy had brought him and sipped from it in an attempt to calm his nerves.

“Mipsy!” Jack called. He rose slowly to his feet as he waited for the elf to appear. He looked over at Owen. “Now I definitely want him looked at,” he all but ordered. “I know there are plenty hazards in a male pregnancy even before you consider a multiple fetus pregnancy.”

“Jack!” Ianto snapped. “You…”

Jack looked over at Ianto, blushed and nodded. “Right, sorry.” He smiled at Mipsy when she arrived and waved her over to Owen for the medic to speak to her. “I just…”

Setting his tea mug aside, Ianto rose slowly to his feet and wrapped his arms around Jack. “I know, _cariad_ , I know.” He tucked his head into Jack’s shoulder and pressed close to the captain. “Just relax. Everything will be fine. Pommy’s a very good Wizarding healer while Owen is a damned good medic. Between them, me and the babies - assuming Mipsy is right - will be perfectly fine.” He shifted back and smiled. “By mid-July you’ll have another baby to spoil rotten, Jack.”

“It’s a good thing we have a large house,” Jack murmured. “We’re going to come home with far more kids then we left Cardiff with.” He cupped Ianto’s face in his hands and gave him a long lingering kiss. “I’ll try to back off, but I’m worried. You’re going to be under such stress from this war…”

“I’ll be fine,” Ianto replied. “I’ve successively carried before even if it was essentially an IVF conception, so my body’s experienced it. I could do without the morning sickness, but if it’s twins that is readily explained there.”

Jack nodded. He slipped a hand down to rest on Ianto’s belly for a moment before slowly stepping back. “I know you don’t want me to hover too much, so how about I go find Minerva to discuss our list of things with her while Owen and Pommy examine you?”

Ianto hummed softly while he considered for a moment. “I wouldn’t mind you being there,” he murmured. “It is possible for Pommy to tell us not only how many babies I’m carrying but the sex. Wizards can determine that a lot earlier than muggles.”

“Oh, that’s so tempting,” Jack replied. He ran his fingers though Ianto’s curls before dropping his hand. “Compromise? I go meet with Minerva while you get examined then you can send for me if you want us to know that bit of news.”

“Deal.” He looked over at the door and chuckled. “I think we’re disturbing Owen by being all domestic here.”

“He has no right to complain,” Jack snapped. He looked over at Owen and glared just a bit. “If you’re playing with her, if you hurt her, I will end you. Understood?”

“Jack…” Ianto began but fell silent when Jack gave him a quick hard look before refocusing on Owen.

“I mean it, Owen,” Jack snarled. He stepped away from Ianto and closer to the team medic. As he moved, he lowered his voice to increase the level of threat. “She is important to me, as close to a daughter as a good friend can be. Do not hurt her.”

Ianto looked between the two men posturing before him, thought about Jack’s earlier comment about Owen being ‘busy’ and realized they were talking about Toshiko. He turned, crossed over to Owen and rested a hand on the other man’s chest. “I’ll second that, Owen, but I won’t kill you. I’ll make you live to regret harming Toshiko in any way.” He stared intently at him and took a wicked bit of pleasure in seeing Owen drop his gaze. “Remember, I’m a wizard. I know a lot of dark spells and wouldn’t hesitate to use them if I felt the need.”

“Are you two done?” Owen asked softly. He was torn between being completely defensive over this and being proud that his girlfriend inspired such devotion in their teammates. “I fought it for months, but there are only so many times you can be locked in a closet with someone before…” he trailed off and shook his head. “Never mind, but I won’t hurt her. She’s…” he trailed off in thought only coming back to himself when Ianto chuckled softly.

“I know that look,” Ianto said. He looked at Jack, laughed, and shook his head. “And no, I’m not explaining to you. A man has to have a few secrets left.” He shifted his attention to Owen and waved toward the door. “Shall we? I’m actually starting to get hungry, but I vaguely recall that eating before an exam is a bad thing.”

“Would you rather have breakfast?” Owen and Jack asked almost simultaneously. They looked at each other and chuckled afterwards.

“Okay, that was disturbing,” Ianto said. “No, exam first. The nausea should be completely over by then. If it isn’t, I can get a potion from Pommy so I can manage to eat a meal.”

“Right,” Jack said. “I’ll leave you two to it then.” He kissed Ianto’s cheek, slapped Owen’s shoulder and headed out the door. “Remember what I said about knowing what they are.” Jack grabbed his coat as he bounded through the sitting room and out the door.

Ianto stared after Jack, looked at Owen and growled, “Before this is all over, I may kill him for being so energetic.” He waved toward the door and followed Owen out though he paused along the way to grab his gun and slip it into his waistband. “Really, how can he be that hyper when I’m…”

“Okay, Teaboy, that’s enough,” Owen interrupted. “Save your bitchiness for Captain Worry-wort.” He stalked through the defense classroom and into the hall. Even has he stalked, he automatically slowed his pace to stay by Ianto’s side. “Let’s get to the infirmary. I need my first actual lesson here. I’m learning on the job, but…” he trailed off and shook his head.

“But what?”

“This is you and Jack, Teaboy,” Owen said. He paused at the top of the stairs and turned to look at Ianto. “I somehow don’t think this will be the only pregnancy I’ll be managing for either of you before one or the other of us leaves Torchwood.” He smiled at Ianto’s shocked look, laughed softly, and nodded to the stairs. “So, after you, before these crazy things take it in their head to move again.”

*** CHAPTER THIRTEEN ***

Jack bounded into the great hall in search of Minerva. The Headmistress-presumptive was most likely there since she wasn’t in her office or the well-secured Headmaster’s office. He strode toward the head table, intent on getting what he needed to do done as quickly as he could, when a pain filled shriek completely destroyed his buoyant mood. He scanned the hall, took in the knot of tense and angry people clumped around one end of the Gryffindor table and stalked in that direction. Reaching the group, he snarled, “What the hell is going on here?”

He shoved a couple of redheads out of his way to get to the center of the group. He took in the participants of what was apparently an ongoing argument in a glance. Ginny was clinging to Ron, panting and crying, while he attempted to keep an older redheaded woman away from his sister. Nearby were the twins, both shouting at an older man who was clearly their father, while Percy stepped between the woman and Ginny. With everyone shouting at the top of their lungs, it was a miracle if anyone heard anything at all.

“Enough!” Jack roared. He pushed a few more people out of the way, but spared a smile for Tonks as she moved out of his way first. He did make a note of the way she, like Ianto, fell in just behind his right shoulder as if waiting for orders from him. Reaching the center of the group, he held out a hand to Ginny. “You okay, sweetheart?” he asked.

Her hand, sweaty and trembling, grabbed his. She clung to him as much as she could without losing her hold on Ron. Jack gave her a soft smile and stepped closer to her to make it easier for her to cling to both of them. He was torn between glaring at the woman bitching and yelling about Ginny being ‘hers’ and smiling even more broadly when he heard the sound of running feet and Gwen’s Welsh-accented voice shouting for Ginevra.

Jack took a brief moment to look over the heads of the redhead men in the room to grin widely at Gwen. “She’s with me, Gwen,” he called. He was delighted, truly delighted to see both her and Rhys arrive so quickly and so well armed. Both held guns easily in hand as they ran down the length of the room. Another squeal took Jack’s attention from Gwen and back to Ginevra. “Get your hands off my granddaughter,” he snarled.

“She’s my daughter!” The older woman snapped back at him. Those words coupled with the red hair told him this woman was most likely the Molly Weasley everyone had been warning them about the previous night. “My daughter!”

Before Jack could think of a suitable retort a gun appeared over his left shoulder. Knowing that Tonks was on his right, and recognizing that particular weapon immediately from the tiny dot of pink nail-polish on the slide, he knew Gwen had just taken up her usual post to his left. “Just who do you think you are?” she growled. “Ginevra is my daughter.”

Ginny’s hand slipped from Jack’s. He looked down to check on her in time to see her fling herself at Gwen. Both arms wrapped around Gwen’s waist while the girl begged, “Please, please don’t hurt her.”

The gun went down. The safety flipped on. Yet, Jack knew from experience Gwen would be ready in an instant. Her free arm went around Ginny in a loose hug. “She doesn’t hurt you,” she said. “I don’t hurt her.”

Jack shifted his attention back to the Weasley’s. His trained eye took in the grouping of people. Ron was close by Ginny but watching his parents closely. The two men he shoved by were now flanking the older adults and glaring at him and Gwen while the twins stood closer to Ron. The strange one was Percy. He was distinctly between the two groups with body language that fairly screamed he didn’t want to be there at all. Jack made a mental note to look into talking to the middle Weasley son.

“What in the name of Merlin are you doing, Molly?” Minerva’s crisp voice cut across the proceedings. “Why are you disrupting our brunch before we have to begin preparations for the Headmaster’s funeral?”

“Getting my daughter back,” Molly retorted.

“Have you lost your magic as well as your senses?” Minerva asked. “It’s obvious to anyone with even a smidge of power that Ginvera’s magic is no longer anchored to yours.”

“I’m taking Ginny home where she belongs.”

Minerva shook her head sadly. She’d always known Molly was stubborn to the point of obstinacy. “But she doesn't belong there any longer, Molly.” She shifted her attention to the very quiet Arthur Weasley. “Arthur, you are the head of the family. What is your assessment of the situation?”

Arthur blinked once. He sighed tiredly and ran his hand over his face. “That you’re right,” he finally said. There was a grudging acceptance in his voice. It was the voice of a man who’d lost his most precious possession through inattention. “Gin… I mean…” he paused.

Jack could tell looking at him that he was trying to figure out what to call Ginny. “Her name is Cooper-Williams now,” he said quietly. He smiled faintly and inclined his head to Arthur after the man nodded acknowledgement.

“Miss Cooper-Williams is not a member of the Weasley Family.” Arthur dropped his head with another sigh. “She is someone else’s child now.” There were clear tears in the man’s voice as he finished speaking.

Jack watched as Ginny ran over to hug her biological father who murmured softly to her. Rhys followed her over, staying close to his new daughter and talking softly to Arthur. After several long moments of observation which reassured Jack that Arthur had no intention of attempting to take Ginny away by force, Jack shifted his attention back to the remaining members of the Weasley family. None of them were looking at him, but instead were staring at the door. As they stared, Mrs. Weasley’s expression began to darken further with anger. Curious, he looked to see what she was staring so intently at and smiled as he watched Ianto walk in with Owen.

Ianto was speaking softly to Owen. His hands gestured wildly in time to his speech. It was clear to anyone the usually composed young Welshman was upset over something. Still, Jack couldn’t help the grin, the surge of love and pride which flooded his system at the sight of his fiancé, and let his gaze drop to linger on the barely visible swell of Ianto’s stomach. He took a couple of steps, intending to meet the other man, when a vicious hiss of words echoed through the room.

“I knew it,” the voice said. “He not only turned Ginny into a Slytherin lover, but he’s a freak, too.”

The words echoed through the room. Jack saw Ianto’s eyes widen as he looked up and took in the gathered people in front of him. One hand dropped to rest protectively over his stomach while his face blanked completely. All emotion wiped away only his eyes flared with pain. The words, the pain in Ianto’s eyes, the memory of being called a freak so often himself caused Jack to whirl about on one heel. He reached out, grabbed the redhead who spoke and slammed him into the nearest flat surface which happened to be the Gryffindor table. Jack’s hand closed about the man’s neck while his free hand slammed into the table next to the man’s ear. Bending down, he hissed through clenched teeth, “If you ever call him a freak again I will rip that earring out of your ear and put it someplace where it will hurt a lot worse.”

Jack’s focus was on the man he was holding down, but he still heard the sound of wood sliding on leather. Months of living and working at the school made that sound amazingly familiar. He tensed his muscles, expecting to feel a curse hit him in the back; however, instead he heard Ianto snap his fingers. The quick sharp sound was echoed by several startled cries from all around Jack and then punctuated by the clatter of several pieces of wood on the floor of the great hall.

“Do not threaten my fiancé, Charlie.” Ianto’s calm tones cut through the startled chatter. “ _Cariad_ , would you let Bill go before you strangle him? You really shouldn’t be doing that in front of the Deputy Commander of the Aurors or my cousin.”

Jack hummed softly. He glared down at Bill and momentarily tightened his hand around the man’s throat to reinforce his threat. Then he bounced away, completely releasing Bill, and grinned over at Ianto. “You always take away all my fun.”

“Jack,” Ianto said softly. His voice was resigned, yet there was a playful undertone to his words. “If I took away all your fun, I wouldn’t be expecting twins!”

“Twins?” Jack half asked, half shouted. He all but tripped himself stopping in front of Ianto. Jack smiled, reached out and pressed a hand to Ianto’s stomach. “Are you certain? No, of course you are.” He stared intently at his lover. “The bigger question is are you happy about it?”

Ianto stared at Jack. He could see the slight fear in the older man’s eyes and smiled a bit before nodding. A snort from behind Jack had his attention shifting to where the Weasley’s were intently watching the scene. The snort came from Molly. Her red face showed she was winding up for yet another one of her famous lectures on conduct which Ianto thought extremely hypocritical of her. Things she tolerated from her older children she berated the younger ones and strangers for doing. He clenched his jaw and determinedly tried to keep calm for his sons’ sake.

“Who cares if he’s happy,” Molly’s strident tones cut across the current soft murmur of voices. “It’s just further proof he’s a freak.”

Shocked, Ianto sucked in a breath. He stared at her, a woman he’d admired when he first met then resented until he forgot her existence like he’d forgotten so much of the prejudices of the Wizarding World. Automatically, he reached out and closed his hand on Jack’s arm, keeping his lover from attacking the woman. Before he could verbally react, she continued her rant about him.

“Not only is he a freak, but he’s an unnatural one. A male fiancé and children out of wedlock.” Molly turned her glare onto Minerva. “And you let him teach! What kind of example does he set for the children? You should be ashamed!” She pointed at Ginny, then snapped to Kingsley. “He even brainwashed her. Stole her from her rightful family. You should arrest him. Get rid of that death eater brat he’s breeding…”

A shriek from overhead drowned out Molly. Ianto didn’t even have to look up to know Myfanwy was making an appearance. Her shadow crossed the room before she swooped down toward Molly, pulling up out of her dive at the last minute, to soar about the ceiling. Silently, Ianto sent a wave of thanks and pleasure along his familiar bond to the pteranodon. In the wake of her cries, Ianto took a step around Jack to confront Molly Weasley.

“You’re as bad as my mother, Molly,” he said. Ianto stared hard at her, holding her gaze with his own while he spoke, and slowly, coldly, smiled. “At least I can understand where she’s coming from, she’s insane. Her mind broken by her lover. You don’t have an excuse for your hypocrisy.” He took another step toward her, stilling only when Jack’s hand rested on his shoulder, and shook his head. “Did you know Bill’s had a male lover? That Charlie has a bastard daughter in Romania? Of course you did.” He laughed softly. “You claim to love your children yet you threw out Ginevra for thinking for herself. What kind of mother does that make you? Controlling, domineering, hypocritical…”

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Sarin Lestrange!”

“Why not?” Ianto raised an eyebrow in question. “It’s all the truth. My stepdaughter has shown more motherly concern and feelings for Ginevra in two days than I ever saw from you since I’ve been back in the Wizarding World.” Ianto paused for breath. Finally, after more than a decade, he had the chance to tell Molly Weasley exactly what he thought of her and her family. He wasn’t about to let the chance slip him by. Before he could start again, the world melted into a mix of confusion, shrieks and tears.

Myfanwy shrieked, folded her wings and dove toward the long haired man pulling a hidden wand on her wizard. She dug her claws into his hair, pulling on it, and distracting him long enough for another redhead to step in front of her wizard. The spell cast struck the stranger rather than her wizard. She released her claw hold, rapidly beating her wings to get out of the way as many bright lights, spells, hit the wizard she’d distracted, knocking him to the ground. She crowed her excitement, delighting in the screams from the wizards as she whirled about above them.

When silence fell again, all that was before Ianto’s eyes was an extremely close view of Jack’s navy blue waistcoat. “Um, Jack,” he began tentatively. He tilted his head back to look up at the captain. “Let me go?”

“In a minute,” he replied. “I want to be certain no one else is thinking of attacking you.” Jack stared at the scene around them. “I’m not losing you or the babies any sooner than I’m forced to.”

Conceding the point, Ianto squirmed in Jack’s tight hold until he could see the scene around them. Bill was apparently being held by a body bind spell which meant he had absolutely no defense to Ginevra’s signature bat-bogey hex. Though from the vacant way he stared upwards, Ianto had a feeling there wasn’t much left of Bill actually left in that body. Ianto wondered what curses had struck the young man. His gaze shifted from Bill’s body to the one between him and Molly that was being intently worked on by Owen, Pommy and, much to his surprise, Harry. Idly, Ianto wondered when Harry had arrived on the scene.

“Percy?” Molly squeaked. She was now crying, clutching on to Arthur as she stared at her middle son’s body. “Bill? What just happened?”

“You happened, Molls,” Arthur said quietly. “You refused to accept that not everything in the world goes the way you thought it should. Apparently Bill was going to do what you wanted, or so I assume, and tried to attack Mr. Jones.” He sighed softly. “Now it seems we’ve lost our daughter to your impulsiveness, one son to your spoiling and perhaps another as well.”

“No, Mr. Weasley,” Harry said. He looked up from his work for a moment. “Percy will live.”

“He’ll need to spend time in the infirmary,” Pommy concurred. “But…”

“But what?” Molly demanded. “What?”

“Shut up, Molly,” Arthur snapped. “Percy is an adult. They can’t tell us anything without his permission.” He watched sadly, resigned to the likelihood that even if Percy lived, he would lose his son after this incident. With a sigh, he turned to Ginny. “I’m sorry, sweeting,” he murmured. He looked from her to Rhys and nodded to the man who had taken his place in his daughter’s life. “I should have stopped her before things got this far.”

“Yes, Dad,” Ginny murmured. “You should have.”

“Remember I love you,” he replied. He carefully hugged her before grabbing Molly’s wrist to keep her from following the healers moving Percy to the school infirmary. “You’ll always be my little girl. Be good for your new family.” After her nod, Arthur looked to the aurors. “I suppose you need us to come with you while you deal with this?”

“For a few minutes, Arthur, only a few,” Kingsley agreed. He nodded to the doors. “Tonks has summoned a few friends to take you, Molly, Charlie and Bill to St. Mungos so Bill can be examined while your statement is taken. We’ll take care of getting the statements here since we were here for another reason already.”

Another nod and the Weasleys, more than a bit dejected, left the great hall under auror escort. Minerva’s sigh echoed through the cavernous space after they’d left. “What now?”

Before anyone could comment, Ianto’s stomach growled. He flushed, knew he was bright red from embarrassment, and buried his face in Jack’s waistcoat. Jack’s chuckle just made him redder while he half-heartedly slapped his lover’s hip.

“Now? First, feed Ianto,” Jack said. “Then we all go up to check on Percy, get statements taken, and then I meet with Minerva.” He shifted his attention to Gwen. “I don’t care what we need to do to get it done. Your plan is approved, but I think we’ll be adding Percy Weasley to your list.”

“What plan?” both Ianto and the deputy headmistress demanded.

*** CHAPTER FOURTEEN ***

Breakfast, though from the timing it was more like brunch, was tense. Extremely tense as Jack refused to explain his plan to Minerva in public. Ianto, after a long look at his lover, had accepted the decision. He knew Jack would explain his reasoning for tabling the discussion until complete privacy could be assured to the Headmistress as soon as they were alone. A soft chuckle escaped him as he contemplated what else had happened at brunch.

“Something funny?”

Gwen’s voice echoed through the empty halls. Ianto had forgotten how quiet the castle was when the students weren’t in residence. He shifted his attention over to his countrywoman and nodded. “I was just thinking of the scene at brunch,” he replied. He crossed the entrance hall to join her and offered her his arm. “Where’s Rhys?”

“Getting a crash course in Wizarding customs from Ginevra, Luna and Blaise in the library,” she said. “You mean Jack being all ‘doting patriarch’ while finding out everyone’s plans for the day?”

Ianto laughed again and patted Gwen’s hand where it rested on his arm. He started up the stairs having finally decided on a plan for himself for the next few hours while Jack discussed contingency plans with Minerva. “Exactly,” he said. “Subtle and Jack do not mix.” He sighed and stopped on a landing as the stairs shifted about above them. He grinned over at Gwen as the woman squeaked and stared up at the staircases in surprise. “I think Jack’s leaping into this chance with both feet and clinging on tight. It’s been a very long time since he had a proper family he could call his own.”

“How long?” Gwen turned and leant back against a railing. “We know so little about him, Ianto. I’m not even certain exactly how old he is.”

“At least one hundred seventy,” Ianto murmured. “Likely older as he did spend some time traveling with the Doctor. I’m only certain of one hundred thirty-eight of those years. That’s how long he’s been with Torchwood Cardiff.”

“ _Duw_ ,” Gwen breathed. “And we’re the first ‘family’ he’s been allowed to keep?”

“Yep.” Ianto looked over and shook his head while again offering Gwen his arm. “Well, he was married once, but I don’t think it lasted very long. I saw the records in the archives.” Ianto watched Gwen and saw the moment she realized just all the implications of Jack’s immortality. Her eyes widened, glistening with unshed tears, and she blinked several times before staring up at him in shock. “Exactly, Gwen. Jack finds happiness where and when he can. We’re just a blip in time for him.”

“I can’t… I mean…”

“I know,” he said. “Neither can I.” He gave a rueful laugh and started up the stairs again. “So, how’s my granddaughter?”

He watched her blink again then she playfully slapped him. “Ianto!” Still, Gwen was smiling again which was his aim. “Ginvera is…” she trailed off and shrugged. “What am I doing, Ianto? I don’t know anything about raising kids. Especially teenaged witches.” This time she was the one who stopped, though they were now standing in a hallway instead of on the stairs. “My parents will disown me.”

“I think you learn on the job. I certainly have with Hermione.” Ianto shifted around to watch Gwen as she paced in the hallway in front of him. “You never talk about your parents. If it wasn’t for the fact that I did the background check on you, I’d have thought you were an orphan. Plus you have Jack, now that he’s decided he’s your father, he’s not going to let that go.”

“He did offer to pay for the wedding,” Gwen mused. “Wait, stepdaughter?” She whirled about to mock glare at him. “Does this mean you’ll help plan the wedding, play mother of the bride and all that?”

“I could be persuaded to,” Ianto said, laughing. “Come on, I want to look in on Percy before I have to take Minerva to the Hub.”

Arm in arm, they strolled down the hall toward the infirmary. Ianto ignored the snide comments from the paintings about him being seen in such intimate contact with Gwen and definitely ignored the even more snide comments about his ‘condition’. He wasn’t going to let the prejudices of the Wizarding world take away any of his joy in carrying Jack’s heirs.

“This place is seriously backward,” Gwen snapped. She pulled Ianto to a halt to glare at one particular painting which seemed to be following them through the halls by crossing from frame to frame while taunting Ianto about being a freak for being able to get pregnant. “What do they have against you and Jack? Or the babies for that matter?”

Ianto started walking again, leaving Gwen to jog a few steps to catch up, and struggled to pull his thoughts together. “The Wizarding World is at least a century behind the times. In many ways, it is stagnant at the height of the steam age. They have radio, which they insist on calling wireless, and a steam locomotive. Somehow, one wizard managed to convince them to have a magicked double decker bus, but aside from that, this world hasn’t left the mid-Victorian era. Socially, economically, even educationally, it’s stuck there.”

“So you…”

“I was lucky, the Joneses insisted I get a complete Muggle education as well as a Wizarding one, though my Muggle education was crammed into the summer months when I wasn’t here at Hogwarts.” Ianto reached the waiting area outside the infirmary and dropped into one of the chairs there. “That’s something we’re going to have to work with the kids on. I know that Luna, Ginevra and Draco have no Muggle education at all. They were homeschooled in the basics, things like reading, writing, and in Draco’s case, Latin, until they were about ten years old. Then they are sent here and receive only the schooling Hogwarts gives them, which is focused on magic. All education here, save for intensive apprenticeships, stops at age seventeen.”

“But…”

Ianto laughed at Gwen’s confusion and patted the chair beside him. “Girls are expected to get married as soon as possible after graduation. Most of them marry their seventh year boyfriends. Some are even informally engaged or formally, complete with contracts, betrothed by Christmas of seventh year. The few who don’t marry becomes governesses or nurses.”

“And your cousin?”

“My cousin and her supervisor Madam Bones are rarities, Gwen. Tonks is a half-blood, so she was exposed to Muggle culture, learned that there were other choices for young women then marriage. I’m not certain about Madam Bones or how she developed a career in magical law enforcement.” Ianto sighed, clasped his hands together and shook his head just a bit. “Until we came here and shook things up so much, Hermione would likely have returned to the Muggle world and played catch up on her education in order to find a job. Assuming she survived the war of course. Pansy would have married a pureblood, likely Draco, and had a child, maybe two if she was very lucky, and spent all her life as a society wife attending charity events, balls, eventually taking a lover or two just to add interest to her life.”

“That’s just…” Gwen trailed off into an inarticulate growl of rage. Ianto understood her feelings perfectly. He felt the same way. “So, we make certain at least some of them know there is more to life than this?” She waved her hand around her at the school to clarify her question.

“It’s all we can do.” Ianto rose to his feet again and started for the infirmary doors. He rested a hand on them and smiled back at her. “Come’n, I have a suspicion you’ll be seeing a lot of Percy. Molly won’t be the least bit happy that he stepped between me and a spell.” He pushed the door open and held it for Gwen. She passed him, but stared back at him as they entered the room.

“Don’t tell me she’ll disown him, too?”

“Too late, ma’am,” came a tired voice from within the room. “I disowned them when she decided that…”

“Decided what?” Ianto asked. He rested a hand on Gwen’s back to guide her into the room. He grabbed a chair, seated Gwen, then summoned another one for him to sit on. “Percy?”

“Sir.” A nod from the clearly exhausted redhead was his acknowledgement. “As much as I don’t like my mother’s attitudes, I really don’t want to say anything against her either.”

“She is your mother, I know, but…” Ianto paused for a moment. “I promise not to go chasing after her regardless of what she’s said about me or my daughters. I owe you for getting in the way of Bill’s spell. Who knows what it could have done to the twins.”

“Probably killed them, sir,” Percy replied. He attempted to sit up and smiled his thanks to Gwen as she helped him up. She plumped pillows up behind his back and handed him a goblet of water before resuming her seat. “Bill, from his job as a Gringott’s curse breaker knows a lot of dark, but not forbidden spells. I heard him teaching one to Charlie ‘just in case’ another witch tried to ‘catch’ Charlie by getting pregnant.” Percy shook his head and drank a bit of the water before continuing, “This spell is used to disconnect a device from a magical power source, but apparently when used on people it severs the bond between the maternal parent and the child.”

“ _Duw_ ,” both Gwen and Ianto murmured. The implications of that spell were devastating. They gave each other identical looks of shock and horror before refocusing on Percy. “What’s it done to you?” Ianto asked.

“Suppressed my magical core according to Madam Pomfrey,” Percy murmured. He set the goblet he held aside on the bedside table. “Her tests say I’m little more than a squib at the moment. She doesn’t know if…” he trailed off into a sob.

Gwen was up and moving before Ianto could even think of a coherent response. He watched as Gwen settled on the side of the bed, gathered Percy into her arms and rocked him. Her eyes met Ianto’s over Percy’s shoulder. She didn’t need to say a word. Ianto knew exactly what she wanted from just that look. He gave her a nod and just watched while she comforted the young man.

It took some time for the storm of weeping to pass and Percy to compose himself. When he finally sat up again, he smiled his thanks to Gwen before looking over at Ianto. “I don’t know what I’m going to do now, sir. I certainly can’t apparate or go back to my job at the Ministry.”

Ianto considered the young man for all of about thirty seconds before he made the decision. He remembered the studious boy who shared his hidden study room for two years. Once again he was reminded of how un-Gryffindor Percy was. The young man would have been a perfect Ravenclaw. He nodded, more to himself then the others, and smiled. “How would you like to join Torchwood?”

“Torchwood, sir?”

“Ianto, what are you…?”

He held up a hand to Gwen, silencing her, and kept his focus on Percy. “If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you and Ginny are close. I know she’s told you about Torchwood, just enough to get you interested and searching on your own.” A soft chuckle escaped him as Percy blushed which was more than enough confirmation for Ianto. “I know Jack wants you to go to Cardiff with Gwen and Rhys and the students they are taking with them. I’d like you to consider being my apprentice.”

“Apprentice?” Both Gwen and Percy asked at the same time before Gwen continued, “Ianto, you can’t…”

“Yes, I can,” Ianto replied. “You’re second in command and Jack’s director but I’m in charge of all the administrative details. If we worked in the Tower, I’d be third after you, so I have the authority.” Shifting his attention to Percy, he explained, “I’m the archivist for Torchwood Cardiff, but I’m also a field agent. Well, not at the moment, but I am qualified for the position. I need an assistant, someone who can quickly learn the archiving system well enough to take over for me in the first months after the twins are born. If you accept, you’ll not only be a part of the team, but close to Ginevra as well.”

Percy laughed softly but also smiled. “That’s a nice bribe, but what if I never regain my magic?” He looked between the two adults, confusion clear in his expression, and said, “Will you get rid of me like the Ministry will because I’m not powerful anymore?”

“Oh, no,” Gwen said. “Not at all.” She glared at Ianto for a moment. “I didn’t even know Ianto was a wizard until a house elf popped up in front of me looking for him. We’re a part of the Muggle world, but you can still do magic there if you can and want to.” Gwen shifted her attention to Ianto. “Right?”

“Yep,” Ianto said. “Think about it. If you’re able to go, when I take Minerva to the Hub this afternoon, I’ll take you as well. You can see the place where you’d be working and get some idea of what we do.” He held out a hand to Percy. “We’ll discuss the rest afterwards. Deal?”

“Deal.”

*** CHAPTER FIFTEEN ***

Jack followed Minerva into the older woman’s office. He knew, just from the way she walked, that she was angry with him. Still, she was a wonderful administrator and a pragmatic woman so he was certain she would understand once he explained himself. He scanned Minerva’s office, shook his head and sighed softly. What was it with wizards and portraits? Why did they have to have them everywhere? Each painting was a security risk, able to take their plans right to their enemy. He settled in a chair and watched Minerva take a seat behind her desk.

“Now, Captain Harkness, this plan…”

“Minerva,” Jack began. He gave a pointed look to the portraits lining the walls of her office. “Is there…?”

He didn’t get to finish the question before she was pulling out her wand, waving it, and murmuring a soft _muffliato_ before setting her wand in front of her. “Now do you feel secure, Captain?”

“As much as I can be,” Jack conceded. “As much as I can be.” He settled back in the chair to consider her across the expanse of the polished wooden desk. “Professor, before we begin, I want to apologize for seemingly brushing you off at brunch. I didn’t want to discuss any of the plans where we could be overheard and the information possibly get back to Voldemort.”

“Understandable,” Minerva agreed. “Now, tell me about this plan of yours. And why you want to send some of the students to Wales.”

“We’re going to have to prepare for defeat, Minerva,” Jack said. He knew it was a hard thing to admit for himself as a military man and for her to accept. He watched her intently, hoping she’d at least give him a chance to explain before she flung him out of her office windows.

“Give up?” she demanded. “Let Voldemort win?”

“No,” Jack snapped. His denial was quick and sharp. He shook his head just a bit for emphasis. “We have to prepare to let him take Hogwarts.”

“Captain Harkness,” Minerva began. “We can’t give up the school. It’s a symbol of the stability of the Wizarding world.”

“The Wizarding world is very intently looking the other way, Minerva.” Jack leant forward and rested his hands on the edge of her desk. “They take their kids out of the school and pretend nothing is happening. The authorities aren’t even interested.” He held her gaze, staring hard at the older woman. “It’s us, Minerva. We’re alone in this war.”

“Captain Harkness… Jack… I feel if we give up the school we’re giving up the fight.” Minerva returned Jack’s stare with an equally hard one of her own. “So, I need you to explain to me why handing Hogwarts over to Voldemort is a good move strategically.”

“The school’s not important.” Jack held up a hand when she started to protest. “It’s a building, Minerva. The kids are much more important. Hogwarts won’t defeat Voldemort. Hogwarts’s children will.”

“So we give the school, but move the children elsewhere?” she asked. “And then do what? Train them to fight? They’re children, Jack.”

“Physically, yes, they are,” Jack agreed. “But the best of them,” he paused and shook his head. It was so difficult to remember that the kids, the ones this war was so focused on were indeed children. They’d all grown up so quickly as children living in the shadow of a war often did. “Do you think Harry is a child considering what he knows about himself? Or Draco, who had to kill his own biological father in order to protect my daughter? Or even Neville who visits his parents every weekend when he’s not here?”

They stared at each other in silence. Jack knew he had to let her think through his arguments before continuing to convince her. Of course that was assuming she didn’t agree without him having to get more explicit about the situation. Ianto knew the plan, if he could get her to agree to go to Cardiff, then Ianto could give her the details in the security of the Hub.

“I don’t like it. However, you are right.” Minerva’s lips tightened as she frowned a bit at the mere thought of how the children in her care weren’t really children anymore. “None of them are truly children. Not even your eldest.” She let out a sigh of her own. “Regardless of where they are, the children are still my responsibility. I need to know they will be safe wherever it is you plan to send them.” Her look turned even sterner if that was even possible. “And that they can continue their education.”

“Actually, Minerva,” Jack replied. He attempted to keep his relief at her agreement out of his voice, but her slight smile told him he failed miserably at the attempt. “I’m going to start by educating you.” Her eyebrow rose in an expression eerily reminiscent of Ianto as she silently asked him to explain himself. “Like the rest of the Wizarding world, you’ve kept yourself away from ‘muggles’.”

He rose to his feet and paced the small space between Minerva’s desk and the chair he’d abandoned. “The Wizarding world has done it for centuries. Disassociated itself from the rest of the world.” Jack stopped pacing to look at Minerva. “You look down on muggles because they don’t have your abilities. Ignoring, if you even think about it for a moment, the fact that if you were cut loose in the muggle world you would be toast in less than five minutes from lack of knowledge.”

“It’s time that stopped, Minerva,” Jack continued. “I’m going to show you some things you have never even imagined.” He gave her a cold, almost evil smile. “I’m going to show you everything these kids will need to know in order to defeat Voldemort.”

“Very well, Jack, but I don’t think you’ll be able to do this yourself.” Minerva smiled just as coldly back at him. “You have an appointment with Mr. Harkness-Jones and Auror Shaklebolt.”

“Oh, I wasn’t planning to do it myself.” Jack dropped back into the chair and smirked. “You don’t really trust me, Minerva. You’d be looking for the hidden agenda. Ianto will take you. He’s one of yours in ways I never will be, patriarch or not.”

“You’ve been planning this for a while,” she said with a laugh. “Yes, we share a common language which will make any explanations easier.” She rose to her feet and nodded to Jack. “I’ll go find Mr. Jones, discuss when the best time for this excursion is.”

“Now,” Jack said flatly as he once again rose to his feet. “The best time is now.” He stared at her for a long moment. “Don’t tell me you haven’t felt it, Minerva. Trouble’s coming. Look at the Weasleys. Even with Molly Weasley’s notorious temperament, don’t tell me you don’t feel the strangeness. She truly shouldn’t have reacted so strongly to Ginevra asserting her independence.”

“I’m as guilty of putting my head in the sand as the rest.” Minerva sighed tiredly. “I wanted that to be my imagination.”

“I know the feeling, but we can’t.” Jack reached out cautiously to her and, when she didn’t move away, hugged her close for a moment before releasing her to hold her shoulders in his hands. He stared at her for a moment. “That’s what people like us do, Minerva. We face the trouble. We make the hard choices.” He released her slowly as he finished, “We have to in order to protect those we love.”

“We do indeed,” Minerva agreed. She took a moment to clasp his shoulder in return before quickly canceling the spell on the room and waving him toward the door. “You go find your son, I’ll find Mr. Jones. I want to see this place you talk about so much.”

*** CHAPTER SIXTEEN ***

Ianto looked up from where he was discussing various methods of archiving alien artifacts with Percy to smile at Minerva. She looked a bit shell shocked though she was hiding it well. Only the tight lines around her eyes and mouth gave away her stress. “You talked to Jack,” he said. He glanced around the infirmary then shook his head. “You have the look of someone who’s been run down by the Harkness Express.”

“It was more a glancing blow,” Minerva replied. She smiled back but nodded to him as well. “He said you’d show me this Hub of yours.”

“You and Percy, actually,” Ianto said. He rose to his feet and waited for Percy to rise as well. A smile and a wave sent Gwen off to join her husband in discussions of Wizarding customs. Ianto shifted his attention from Gwen to the two wizards. “I’ve offered Percy an apprenticeship at Torchwood.”

“I thought Torchwood was a muggle institution?” Minerva’s confusion was clear in her words as she spoke. “How could you possibly have apprenticeships there?”

“Muggles had apprenticeships up until the turn of the century. For a bit after that as well, though outside of certain trades, apprenticeships are no longer the method of learning. Now we have colleges, universities, and specialized schooling.” Ianto debated for a moment between apparating and portkeying to the Hub. It would be easier to apparate and he could still safely do that for another month or thereabouts. The question was where in the Hub to go to. His lips twisted in a wry smile as he finally decided on a space so intensely familiar to him for all the wrong reasons. “Since Torchwood is such a specialized field and our needs so narrowly defined, an apprenticeship is the best way to train Percy as an archivist.”

“I see,” Minerva conceded. “So he’s coming with us?”

“Yes. And if he’s comfortable there, I’ll leave him in Cardiff to start working and familiarizing himself with the place while you and I return here in order to see the children off in Rhys and Gwen’s care.” Ianto held his arms out to both of his companions and waited for them to rest their hands on him. He then took out his wand, concentrated and apparated them to the basement storage room where he had kept Lisa for long.

On their arrival, he cast a quick _Lumos_ spell while reaching up to activate his comm.. “It’s just me, Martha. Stand down. I brought guests for a tour of the Hub.”

“Warn a woman next time,” Martha’s voice laughed in his ear. “We’ll be waiting.”

“Be up in a minute,” he replied. Ianto waved to the door before leading the way over. He tried the knob, his mind flashing back to all the times he secured this door with Lisa locked on this side. For a moment, he wondered if she was able to get up and try it before reminding himself that until that dreadful night she was unable to breathe or walk on her own. Licking his lips and forcing the memories back into the depths of his mind, he cast a simple unlocking spell on the door. The click and slide of the barrel bolt on the other side told him the room hadn’t been touched since Jack secured it more than a year before. Pushing the door open, he turned to his companions.

“This is one of the basement storage rooms. It hasn’t been used in quite some time, but I’m very familiar with the space so it was the safest place to enter the Hub by.” Ianto led the way through the twisting labyrinth of corridors up to the main portions of Torchwood Cardiff. “The archives are down that hallway though there is another entrance from the main floor,” he said while pointing to a secured door. Stepping around a bend and heading up a short flight of stairs, he waved the two wizards into the main working area of the Hub. “And this is where we usually work.”

Ianto watched as both wizards stared around the room. Everything was strange to them, but instead of freaking out as he’d expected he saw only intense curiosity. Minerva wandered the Hub floor, looking closely at everything, but paused behind Andy to stare hard at the former constable. After a moment, she shook her head and returned to Ianto’s side. “It’s a bit… austere,” she said finally.

Ianto handed a set of folded papers to Martha with a small smile but nodded to Minerva. “This is only one room. There’s a greenhouse, autopsy bay, the archives,” he pointed at various spaces as he mentioned them. “Let me show you around.” He started off only to pause when Martha called his name.

“Ianto?” She waved the papers at him in question. “What’s this?”

“Things you need to start acquiring and stockpiling. Gwen will explain in detail later when she’s back from Hogwarts.”

“Yes, I get that. There’s a note from Jack here.” She surveyed him from head to toe before shaking her head. “I just don’t understand why he’d want incubators and NICU supplies.”

He blushed and knew he was blushing. Both his wizarding companions were chuckling softly as he gave a resigned sigh before speaking. “I suppose he wants to be prepared just in case,” he finally said. “I’m pregnant with twins, Martha. There’s every chance they’ll be early.”

Ianto waited, tense and worried, for the reactions from his friends. To his surprise, neither said a word about him being pregnant other than to offer congratulations, though Martha went to work on changing the list and making calls. This was what he loved about Torchwood, the strange was just another part of everyday life here. Nodding to them both, he again started the tour of the Hub for the two wizards.

From the greenhouse – “Madam Spout would be intrigued by these plants” – to the medical suite – “Madam Pomfrey would scour this place” – to his beloved archives – “Mr. Jones, look at the state of these papers!” – nothing seemed to phase Minerva too much. Percy was just quietly absorbing everything said to him, just as he had when Ianto tutored him years before, and following along in Ianto’s wake. Ianto was honestly beginning to wonder if someone had replaced his old transfiguration professor with a polyjuiced double when she finally reacted to something the way he’d anticipated.

*** CHAPTER SEVENTEEN ***

Ianto poured a dram of whiskey into a glass, slid it across the desk and settled back in Jack’s chair to watch Minerva mutter in Gaelic while she paced the confines of Jack’s office. He was just glad Percy wasn’t there to hear some of the things their transfiguration professor was saying about the reality of aliens. Martha had taken a shell shocked Percy off to do his medical induction into Torchwood. Ianto shook his head, sighed very softly, and wished he too could have some of the scotch waiting patiently for his former teacher to consume. As she paused in her mutterings, Ianto asked quietly, “Why are you so shocked, Professor?”

“You just showed me proof of a theory which led to Aurora’s predecessor being fired by the Board of Governors,” Minerva answered. She settled into the visitor’s chair and smiled as she sipped the whiskey. “If the Board insisted on her ideas not being taught, to the point they got the Aurors to _obliviate_ her, then what other bits of knowledge have been suppressed by those in power just to keep the rest of the Wizarding World as little more than semi-literate sheep?”

“More than you likely know, Minerva,” Ianto replied. He glared at Jack’s favorite coffee cup. It still sat abandoned on the corner of the desk. He quickly conjured up a tea set. If he even thought of conjuring a cup of coffee, Mipsy would likely turn up to whap him with her wooden spoon. He leant forward to pour, but chuckled when Minerva waved him back to do it herself. He accepted the cup she levitated toward him, thought for a moment and then took his turn at the Torchwood introductory lecture.

“I’m certain you know the famous quote from Shakespeare’s Hamlet,” Ianto began only to be immediately interrupted by her.

“There are more things on Heaven and Earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy,” she quoted calmly. “Legend holds he nearly was _obliviated_ for that line.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised to know that,” he said. He sipped the tea, debated, and finally just went for it. “Let’s start with the basics then. Aliens are real. They’ve been visiting Earth for generations.” He set the tea cup down, clasped his hands together and leant toward her. “That power you’ve been feeling since we arrived here at the Hub…”

“You mean that static charge which reminds me of when people stroke my animagus form’s fur the wrong way?”

“Yes, that,” he laughed softly. “That’s a good description of the feeling. It makes the inside of my head itch especially right before something comes through it. That’s the Rift.” He smiled at her. “It’s a tear in time and space converging here on Cardiff. Sometimes things, aliens or artifacts, come through it. Torchwood exists to contain those incursions. We intervene, stepping between the rest of the population, who coincidentally know nothing about this, and the things which come through the Rift. Sometimes we have to fight and kill the aliens or destroy dangerous objects. Other times we help. Victims who’ve escaped or peaceful aliens we help to blend in with modern society.”

“Like…” Minerva’s expression clouded for a moment as she thought. “Janet?”

“Janet, her species, they’re a special case.” Ianto shook his head. “We call them Weevils.”

“Why?” Minerva questioned. She reached out and refilled her tea cup. Silently, she held the pot out toward Ianto who shook his head in response. “And make it good. If they are a threat, you should have taken care of them. If they aren't, why is she your prisoner?”

“The Weevils live in the sewers. Generally stick to themselves and rarely come above ground. Though I do know they have a nest or two in abandoned buildings around the city. As long as they don't bother anyone, we leave them alone. Occasionally, one will come above, attack people, and we go out and deal with them. While we attempt to sedate and relocate them, sometimes we have to kill them." Ianto paused. "Janet was found when she was attempting to bury a juvenile weevil. Tried to relocate her, but she kept coming back. So she stays here in the cells."

“So she's your ward, in a sense?”

Ianto tilted his head to one side, thought and smiled. “That's as good a term as any. She's still feral, still dangerous, but strangely she's sometimes protective of the team as well. I don't think she fits in with her species anymore so she's better off here.” He considered Minerva for several silent minutes before he deliberately changed the subject. “Minerva, I know Jack. He didn’t tell you everything about why we want to let the castle fall into Voldemort’s hands.”

“I don’t like it,” Minerva snapped. Fire lit her eyes and Ianto automatically cringed back just as he had when he was her student. “Hogwarts is a symbol to the Wizarding World.”

“I know,” Ianto replied. “And that’s part of why it needs to fall.” He rose to his feet, circled the desk and stood at the windows looking out on the Hub. “Letting Voldemort take the castle should shock the Wizarding population out of their complacency.” He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and looked back at her. “I protested it. Merlin and the Goddess knows I protested the plan, but it does make sense.”

“So, if I agree and we do allow him to take the castle, why here?”

“The Rift,” Ianto said flatly. “As touchy and potentially dangerous as it is, it also both masks magic and powers it.” He turned back around to face her and leant back against the windows. “Everyone in Wales has been touched by it. Gwen and Rhys are both locals. They have magic, not enough to be wizards, but it’s there.”

“So, if Voldemort is looking for the children, he’ll lose the scent as soon as he enters Wales?”

“Essentially, yes.” Ianto knew he was getting through to her. She was thinking, the anger gone from her body language to be replaced with the calculating woman he remembered from his brief time on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. “And I can use the Rift to add additional power to the spells we’ll use to conceal the Hub from anyone he sends looking for us. Most people know if you want to find Torchwood, come to Cardiff Bay, but no one knows exactly where we are. Only the team members do.” He laughed softly and smirked. “Even you don’t know exactly where in Cardiff we are right now.”

“You mean directly below the Plass?”

Ianto laughed. He should have known she’d figured it. His old professor was many things, but she definitely wasn’t stupid. Plus, it wasn’t like he’d not given her enough clues to figure out right where they were. “Figured out the sculpture, did you?”

“Yes, but only because I was down here, so to speak,” she replied with a smug little smile of her own. “If I’d been out there, I don’t think I could have done it.”

“Yes, we're under the Plass. We can send the children to local schools and teach them magic here after classes. They won't be completely isolated, but they will be protected by the ambient power off the Rift since it pervades Cardiff.”

“All right,” Minerva conceded the fight to Ianto. “I'm not happy about it, but I see the reasons for it.”

“If there were any other way, we'd take it, but we don't have a choice. This is the best option."

“I can see that.” She produced a slip of paper. "That's the… what is it called... phone number for the local senior witch. You might want to bring them in."

Ianto blinked stupidly. He took the paper, read it, and raised an eyebrow. It was indeed a local Cardiff number and not something he’d ever expect to find in Minerva’s possession. “We'll do that. You've been holding out on us, Minerva. I didn't know how to reach the local community and I've lived here for two years now."

She smirked. Ianto now realized just how disturbing it was to have his ‘I know more than you’ smirk turned on him. “Women are more logical than men under certain circumstances. We both knew the divisions between the English and Welsh Wizarding worlds would come back to haunt us some day, so we have been preparing.”

“Thank you, Minerva.” He inclined his head to her. “Their help, both with the war and teaching the children when we move operations here, will be greatly appreciated.”

“It might be for the best, actually,” Minerva mused. “The Welsh handle magic a little differently, and I don't think a single one has defected to Voldemort yet. Training the children in other methods might give them the benefit of surprise in a battle field.”

“Agreed. On all counts." Ianto absently rubbed his stomach. He couldn’t believe he was getting hungry again. Plus, he really wanted to be there for Jack and Draco when the interrogation was over. "Are you ready to head back? I could use your help preparing portkeys for the children in case we all aren't together when we have to abandon the castle."

“All right.” She nodded in response to him. “But before we go, let's make that phone call. It might be helpful to have several places the children can go to.” Minerva gave him a long considering look. Ianto nodded in response to it. “Just in case.”

“Definitely.” He waved her back to the chair. Ianto resumed his seat in Jack’s chair and reached for the phone. When she pointed at the teapot, he nodded. “It’s always good to have a backup plan.”

*** CHAPTER EIGHTEEN ***

Draco clenched his hands together on the tabletop while he listened to Auror Shacklebolt and Severus argue about who would attend his questioning. A hand clasped his shoulder, squeezed, and he looked up to see Jack smiling down at him. The mere fact that his ‘father’ was there, had insisted on being there in fact, reassured him more than words from Auror Shacklebolt. He smiled back for a brief moment but knew from the narrowing of Jack’s eyes that he’d completely failed at hiding his increasing fear of the upcoming conversation.

“Why don’t you ask Draco who he wants here?”

Jack’s voice cut harshly across the escalating conversation between the other two adults. Draco reached up and clasped Jack’s hand. He squeezed it once and, when Jack looked down at him, smiled his thanks. He took a calming breath, let it out, and consciously relaxed his mind and body in preparation for the interrogation to come.

“He’s a child,” Severus protested. “I’m his godfather and, therefore, have every right to be here.”

“No one who saw what he saw nor accomplished what he did in rescuing Mica is a child,” Jack snapped right back. “By British law he is all but an adult. So ask him who he wants here.”

“Prof... Um... D... Dad?” Draco half asked, half said. He hated the slight shake in his voice. He also hated that tentative tone, but it was too late to take it back. “Professor Snape can stay. He might have information you or Auror Shacklebolt can use that I missed because I was concentrating on Mica.”

“If that’s what you want,” Jack replied. He settled next to Draco and clasped his wrist. “I want you comfortable for this. I know just how hard this is for you.”

“I’m just glad Professor Jones isn’t here for this.”

Jack laughed and waved the other men toward the other chairs at the table. “Call him Tad or Ianto, son.” He gave his oldest living son an encouraging smile. “All our other kids do.”

“Yes, sir.” Draco nodded in thanks then focused on the auror. “Auror Shacklebolt…” he started, then trailed off to gather himself again. “Whenever you want to start.”

As Auror Shacklebolt outlined his intentions for the upcoming questioning, Draco watched the dark skinned man begin his work. He moved with the same self assurance as Jack would when Jack was being intent and serious. Auror Shacklebolt’s actions were nothing like he expected from years of listening to Lucius deride the aurors as weak wizards at best and little more than house elves at worse. He moved and acted more like Jack when Jack was doing one of his small group discussions with the Slytherins than anything Lucius ever described. A set of forms were laid on the table which Kingsley read from before sliding them one at a time across the table, first to Draco to sign, then to Jack and finally to Snape. With the paperwork signed, Draco took a deep breath and let it out on a soft sigh.

Kingsley, who insisted on being called by name now that the formality of the paperwork was out of the way, summoned a goblet and a jug of water, and poured the water into the goblet. He pulled out the _veritaserum_ and rose to his feet. “This will take a while, I don’t want you getting dehydrated,” Kingsley explained as he circled the table to stand by Draco’s side. A chuckle escaped him as Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “Regardless of what you’ve heard, even aurors are human.”

Draco laughed and nodded. “Just nervous,” he murmured. “We ready?” At Kingsley’s nod, he took one final glance at Jack, silently seeking reassurance, and received just that in an encouraging smile. “Let’s do this then,” he said quietly.

Afterwards, Draco would never be able to say with certainty the course of the questioning or even the answers he gave. He could remember impressions, but not words. Jack’s constant silent support, Severus’s occasional snapping as he added details to Draco’s own words, but Draco couldn’t remember exactly what he said. Only one thing stood out to him, Jack’s vicious cursing when he was forced by the potion to detail exactly what Lucius Malfoy wanted him to do to Mica as his initiation into the Death Eaters. It was the final and hardest question of the interrogation. No sooner had he finished speaking than Kingsley was administering the antidote to the _veritaserum_. Draco looked at the adults for one moment before crossing his arms on the table and resting his head on them. He couldn’t look at them, not after saying those words. Just the thought of what his biological parent would have done to him and his sister if given a chance was far too horrific. As if the thought had summoned her, Mica came running into the room shrieking for Draco. He lifted his head from the table and stared at her. She raced across the room to kick Kingsley in the shins while yelling at him.

“You leave Draco alone!”

Mica kicked again, causing Kingsley to yelp even has he picked the little girl up. He conjured a lollipop for her while waving away Hermione’s frantic apologies for Mica’s escape. Kingsley resumed his seat at the table and smiled over at Jack. “She’s feisty,” he said with a laugh. “It’s too bad she’s far too young to tell us anything useful.”

Both Draco and Jack hissed in response to the thought of Mica being questioned by anyone over that event. She was coping so well neither one wanted to set her back by making her answer questions about the event. Jack just started to protest when Mica spoke over him.

“The monster’s not right,” she said. “He was one. Then he was two. And now he’s one again.” She gave a firm nod at the end of the statement and grinned at everyone’s confusion. “He’s really freaky and strange.” She looked down to unwrap her lollipop. “Oh, and he really, really hates you, Daddy.”

Everyone looked at each other confused before turning back to Mica. She just smirked around the lollipop she’d been given before clambering out of Kingsley’s lap to rejoin Hermione. The sucker was pulled out of her mouth with a sharp pop. “Can we go see Harry now?”

“You’re the one who ran off,” Hermione said. “But yeah, we can.” She picked up Mica, nodded to everyone and left the room with her girlfriend.

Silence fell in the room as everyone struggled to make sense of Mica’s words. It was Snape who finally broke the silence. “Your daughter might have picked up more than we have,” he mused. “I’ve also been getting some very odd impressions from Voldermort lately. I know you’ve asked me not to go to the upcoming Revel, but I think I should.”

Jack considered for a moment, then nodded. “Keep me informed and be careful,” he instructed. “You’re too valuable to lose at the moment, but if you think you’ve been compromised, get out.”

Draco, meanwhile, had laid his head back on the table. Reliving those events, even with the cushion of _veritaserum,_ had worn him out. He just wanted a bit of rest. He heard the chairs scrape across the floor, the soft sound of conversation as the guests took their leave of them, and finally the sound of Jack’s heavy footsteps as his adopted father rejoined him. He felt hands on his shoulders, massaging them, and shuddered as he tried to keep from reacting to that gentle touch.

“I’m proud of you, son,” Jack said. “I know that was difficult for you, but I’m still proud you did it.”

“I wish I could forget,” Draco muttered into the tabletop. “Just erase that whole night from my memory, but I know I can’t.”

“Trust me, Draco,” Jack replied. “You don’t want to do that. You’ll always wonder what happened that you no longer remember.”

“Dad?”

“I know,” Jack said with particular intensity. He settled in the chair beside Draco again. “But that’s a story for another time. Right now, I want to know what you need. What would make you feel better?”

“Can I see Mica?” he asked carefully. He worried that Jack would forbid him time with the little girl now that he knew what his biological father had been like. The Wizarding World firmly believed in the old adage that blood would tell.

“Why not? She is your sister,” Jack replied. “She’s with Hermione and Pansy, though I did hear someone say something about Harry wanting to teach her how to fly a broom.”

Draco laughed, the sound a bit rusty and teary, but still a laugh. “Great, my sister the future seeker,” he snarked. “Now we have to go out in the snow to find them.” He mock glared at Jack. “It’s fucking freezing out there.”

“That’s what my coat is for. You should get one - far superior to cloaks.” Jack grinned at his son. “Ask Ianto to help you out. He’s got excellent taste. Until then, don’t you wizards have warming charms?”

*** CHAPTER NINETEEN ***

Draco followed Jack through the castle unsurprised when his cousin Tonks joined them walking down the hall. He was pretty certain that Tonks saw it as her responsibility to protect Jack as he was the acknowledged fiancé of the defacto head of the House of Black as well as the head of the House of LeStrange. Regardless of the reason, Draco was glad for the company. Now he wasn’t the only one who struggled to keep up with Jack’s powerful stride through the castle.

“Gwen, where are you and who’s with you?” Jack said without breaking his stride. “Good, bring everyone down to the Quidditch pitch. Ginny knows where it is.” There was a pause then Jack was speaking again. “Owen? Tosh? Where are you?”

Draco shook his head. He was still trying to figure out how Jack was holding a conversation with the rest of his team when there was no visible means for him to do so. A quick glance to one side proved Tonks was sharing his confusion. At least he wasn’t alone in that regard.

“Good, good,” Jack said. “Grab Poppy and come down to the Quidditch pitch. We’ll have a game or something. Anything to stop the boredom.” A laugh came from the Captain before he stopped and turned around. “Tonks? Who else is in the castle?”

“The Weasley twins are visiting their brother and his girlfriend since their sister was busy with her new parents.” Tonks tilted her head to one side. “I think they’re in the Gryffindor tower. Remus is here somewhere as well.”

Jack hummed an acknowledgement. His head tilted just a bit while he thought. “What’s the fastest way of getting a hold of them?” he finally asked. “Fastest and most reliable way, I mean.”

“Um, the house elves or the portraits,” Tonks replied. “I have to know. How were you talking to your friends?”

Jack laughed softly. “Miniature Bluetooth headset for our communications system,” he explained. Jack started walking again and waved a hand for them to follow him. “It’s connected to our mainframe via satellite and voice activated. Draco, you’ll get one eventually. If you take me up on my offer of a job that is.”

“Think I wouldn’t, Dad?” Draco stopped on the main staircase, leant back on the railing, and considered Jack. He tilted his head significantly toward a portrait watching them intently before he spoke again. “How about I run up to Gryffindor for the Weasleys and Brown? The twins are good beaters and Ron’s a great keeper. Can’t have an impromptu match without’em.”

While nothing was said verbally, gratitude lit his adopted father’s eyes. Draco gave a quick nod of his head and bounded off toward the tower. As he left Jack and Tonks behind, he heard Jack ask Tonks if she knew where Remus was currently and the fastest route to get to him so he could join the match. He chuckled softly as he headed through the hallways. Four years of hunting Gryffindors to taunt had taught him the fastest routes from just about any part of the castle to the tower. Barely ten minutes had passed before he was rapping firmly on the edge of the frame of the portrait guarding the tower entrance.

“Draco?” Lavender questioned as she peered out the portrait. “What are you doing up here?”

“Looking for you lot,” he retorted. “Dad... I mean Professor Harkness... is putting together an impromptu Quidditch match to relieve his boredom. Thought I’d bring you all down for it.”

“Quidditch!!!!”

“You’ve done it now, Draco,” Lavender said. A sigh slipped from her lips before she stepped out of the tower to join him. He took the cloak draped over her arm and held it for her to slip on while the trio of Weasley’s came tumbling excitedly out of the tower. “I’ll be lucky to get five minutes with him now that you have him started on that game.”

Draco chuckled as the Weasleys didn’t even wait for he and Lavender, just went running down the hall toward the stairs leading to the outside. Politely, he offered Lavender his arm. His laughter increased as she looked dubiously at him. “Appearances to the contrary, I am a gentleman, Lavender,” he said. “We’re both purebloods. I know how to escort a lady somewhere.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. Draco was surprised by the blush which stained her cheeks even as she tucked her hand into his arm. “I live with Gryffindors. I’d forgotten about...”

“Don’t mention it,” he interrupted gently. “Forgive my impertinence, but have you decided what you want to do after this war is over?”

“Assuming we all survive it?” Lavender sighed softly. “I don’t know, Draco.” She shrugged one shoulder and started walking alongside him. “I honestly don’t know. I don’t like to think on it.”

“Why not?”

“Draco...” she started only to trail off again. “Like you said, I’m a pureblood. A young, reasonably healthy and presumably fertile pureblood. My future’s already mapped out for me. Why do you think I present the, how does Hermione put it when she thinks I’m not listening, ‘stupid airhead blonde’ attitude all the time?” She looked up at him and shook her head. “It’s easier than committing to a course of study only to have to abandon it when I graduate and am expected to marry.”

“You’re not contracted yet, are you?”

“No.” Lavender’s voice freely conveyed her confusion at his line of questioning. “Why?”

He reached out and opened one of the castle’s side doors for her. He waited patiently for her to pass him before following her outside. “Because if you aren’t already contracted to someone, there’s no reason for you not to pursue your dreams,” he murmured. He tucked her hand into his elbow again and gently squeezed her fingers. “I know you like divination, so why not study more of it.”

“Actually, I hate divination.” Lavender laughed gaily at his surprised look. “It’s one of the few subjects taught here at Hogwarts where a female pureblood can excel without being looked down upon. At least those of us not in Ravenclaw where everyone is too smart for their own good.”

“So what do you like?”

“Potions.” A heavy tired sigh escaped her. “Now that’s a course that will lead nowhere. Professor Snape hates Gryffindors with a passion. There’s no way I could do the kind of studying I would want to as long as he’s the professor here.”

“There are other potions masters out there,” Draco replied. “I think there’s also at least one potions mistress. You could get an apprenticeship with someone else. You don’t have to study with Snape.”

“There are?” Lavender stopped in the middle of the snow covered walkway and tugged him to a stop beside her. “I couldn’t find any contact information for any others in the library though I did find a copy of this in the Restricted Section.” From her cloak pocket, she pulled out a battered black book which she silently offered him. “I thought some of the potions in it could be useful for the war if I could figure out how to make them.”

Draco raised an eyebrow, flipped through the book, and felt his jaw hang open for a moment. Not only did she have an infamous banned Muggle text, _The Anarchist Cookbook_ , but she’d made notes both on the pages themselves and on scraps of parchment she’d tucked inside. Silent and shocked, he handed the book back to her and waved toward the Quidditch pitch. “You need to talk to Dad,” he finally said. “Between him and Ianto, I’m certain they can help you find someone to teach you.”

He watched her from the corner of his eye as they walked. A natural silence had fallen between them. Not strained, but contemplative. He could almost see her thinking. It was strange to actually see her intelligence so clearly as Lavender usually presented such a vacant expression to the school. Just inside the pitch, she stopped again. As expected, he stopped beside her.

“You...” she growled at him. Lavender poked him in the chest with one finger. “You just had to get me thinking and hoping. I couldn’t possibly ask Professor Harkness for...” she trailed off with a soft whimper.

“Ask me for what?” Jack’s voice echoed through the underside of the bleachers where they stood. “Miss Brown, ask what?”

Lavender stared at Draco. Her eyes were wide, almost frightened, before she gave him a bit of a pout. “You could have told me he was there, ferret,” she hissed. The tiny hint of a smile softened the slight sting of being reminded of his brief time as a white ferret during the Triwizard Tournament. “Draco said I should talk to you about getting more advanced potions classes. I’m good with them when I can manage around Professor Snape and the Slytherins,” she said. “And there’s this... I thought I could make those potions for us to use against Voldemort.” Again, the book appeared though this time it was offered to Jack instead of Draco.

Draco leant back against one of the wooden supports, crossed his arms over his chest and watched the scene in front of him. If he could get Lavender, the most popular of the girls in the school to think ‘outside the box’ as Miss Sato put it, then the rest of the girls would follow. They were a bit like sheep that way. He snorted a laugh as the thought drifted through his mind. Still, it was nice to see Lavender taking a chance and talking to his father. As he watched, Jack did just what he did, flip through the book though Jack took the time to read some of her notes on the recipes in the text. Whatever he read, it certainly pleased him as Jack looked up from the book with one of his wide engaging grins.

“Miss Brown, you and I are going to have a serious talk in the next day or so,” Jack said. He handed her the book back. “You hold onto that and keep reading it. If I can get a hold of him, I know someone who can teach you not only how to make all those recipes, but a million and one other things that any agent provocateur needs to know.”

“Oh… um… Thank you,” she murmured. An even deeper blush stained her cheeks, but her pleased smile more than balanced the embarrassment she was feeling, at least in Draco’s book. Lavender turned to him and gave him a bigger smile. “And thank you, too.”

A clap of hands and they both turned their attention to Jack. “You two were the last to get here,” he said. “Come’n, it’s time to explain the plan. You all need to know where we’re going to meet when Voldemort takes the castle from us.” Another deep laugh came from Jack. “Close your mouths, you two. War is coming and you have just been conscripted.”

*** CHAPTER TWENTY ***

Ianto guided the backup SUV through Cardiff toward Roath Park. A quick glance across the front of the car caused him to vainly attempt to conceal a laugh. His former professor looked like she couldn’t decide what to do other than cling to the edges of the car seat. Managing somehow to contain the urge to laugh, he asked, “Are you all right, Minerva?”

“I’m managing, Mr. Jones,” she replied.

“Ianto, please,” he said. As the car stopped at a light, he considered her again. He was pleased, ridiculously pleased, that she’d allowed him to transfigure her clothing to fit in with the muggle society. Gone were the forest green and plaid robes she preferred in favor of a traditional black Donegal tweed riding ensemble with her usual plaid as the vest beneath the jacket. Her solid black boots finished off the outfit. He reached over and briefly clasped her hand. “Relax,” he murmured. “I drive these roads all the time. Be glad you aren’t with Jack right now.”

“Let me guess, he drives like Harry flies a broom,” she replied.

Ianto couldn’t help laughing at that comparison. It was also fairly accurate, but honestly that was insulting Harry. “I think Harry’s better actually,” he said. “I cannot tell you the number of times we’ve nearly had accidents from Jack’s maniac driving.” He watched from the corner of his eye as Minerva began to relax and even enjoy the ride a bit. They had a bit of time before they were due to meet the senior Welsh witch so Ianto took a more scenic route toward the park. As they passed the Roath Flower Gardens, he waved toward her side of the car.

“That terrace house coming up right there with the bright blue door,” he said. “That’s the house I share with Jack. I’m fairly certain he bought it when it was built or not long after.”

“Those were built at the beginning of the last century, Ianto,” she said. There was a hint of her usual professorial ‘do not toy with me’ tone in simple sentence. Even now, years out of school, she still made him feel like that lazy student he’d been back then.

“I know,” he replied. “Jack’s older than he looks.”

A soft humph came from the passenger seat. He knew what that sound meant as well. That was the ‘I don’t know if I’ll believe what you are saying, but I’ll take it under consideration’ sound. The rest of the short ride to Roath Park passed in silence. Strangely, Ianto felt the urge to squirm in response to the silence just as he had during detentions with Minerva back in his student days. Pulling off the main road onto the smaller one which crossed the Park itself, he found a place to park, climbed down from the SUV and circled it to politely open Minerva’s door for her.

Offering her his arm, he led her across the street, down the steps and into the Park. They walked in silence toward the designated meeting place. He was wary of this semi-public meeting. Not only were they meeting an unknown witch of unknown power and skill, but there was just enough privacy on this end of Roath Park which would allow someone to easily dispose of their remains if they were killed. It took all his willpower not to stroke his hand over this stomach. Instead, he clenched it in his pocket. A slight tensing from Minerva caused him to look at her. A small almost ironic laugh slipped from him as he realized she’d slipped her wand into her hand.

Reaching the footbridge crossing two sections of the lake, Ianto was surprised to find a middle aged woman already there. She was idly tossing bread to the ducks below. The presence of the woman disturbed him but it was the girl standing beside her who set Ianto’s already stretched nerves on edge. Her long white dress skimmed the ground beneath her equally long red cloak. Just beyond the two women stood the girl’s bodyguard keeping watch over his charge as he had for as long as Ianto had known of her. She only showed up when things were about to get very unstable. “Why are you here?” he demanded.

“Alys thought it would be easier for you to accept her if she was introduced by someone you already know,” she replied. She inclined her head to him, a secretive smile crossing her lips, and reached up to pull her hood over her hair. “Tell the Captain I’m looking forward to seeing him again.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not enthused over hearing that,” Ianto replied. Her laugh, clear and almost bell like, brought an answering smile to his lips. “But I will pass on the message.”

“I know,” she said. “Alys, it’s been a pleasure as always. This is Ianto Jones and his friend. He’s close to the Captain.” With a nod to them all, she glided away along the path with her bodyguard slipping away after her.

Ianto shifted his attention to the woman on the bridge. From the power he could feel off her, this was indeed the woman they’d come to meet; however, she didn’t look old enough to hold the position of _Archdewines_. She looked barely out of her thirties with lush dark hair tumbling about her shoulders in a riot of loose curls; yet, when she turned to face him, Ianto was uncomfortably aware of a familiarity about her. It took him a few moments to grasp why she seemed so familiar. “You’re his daughter,” he gasped out.

“He doesn’t know,” she replied. “Alys Cole. Estelle was my mother.”

“I’m Ianto Jones,” he replied. He offered her his hand, shook hers, and nodded to his companion. “This is Minerva McGonagall. She’s the presumptive headmistress of Hogwarts.” He thought for a moment before joining Alys by the bridge railing. “Why did you never try to find him? He’d have…”

“Mum thought he was dead, remember?” Alys said. She shifted her gaze to Minerva. “Before you wonder how I hold the position I do, I’m older than I look.” A bitter laugh escaped her. “One of two things I inherited from my father.”

“You have his eyes,” Ianto said. He would have said more but Minerva’s shifting beside him reminded him that now was not the time for dealing with the ever increasing soap opera that was his personal life. “You know why we’re here. Can we expect help from the _Eisteddfod_ or are we on our own?” Silence fell for a moment, Ianto worried he’d been too abrupt in his questioning. It had been a long time since he’d had to deal with the elaborate dance which was negotiations in the Wizarding world. Just was he was about to retract the statement, she began to speak.

“The _Eisteddfod_ will help,” Alys said. “However, our assistance comes with a price tag.” She shifted a bit to stare intently at both Ianto and Minerva. “From you, Mr. Jones, we want your promise that your younger daughter and any future children born to you and Captain Harkness will be taught here in Wales in the traditional manner.” She paused, clearly waiting for an answer, but Ianto merely stared back waiting for her to finish. Finally, she gave him a little smile, conceding defeat, and continued, “We also want to train any children you bring into Cardiff while they are here. Their education should not be neglected because of a war they are being forced to fight by their elders.”

Ianto considered before lifting one shoulder. “I can’t make any promises about Mica until I’ve spoken to Jack,” he said. “As to the children…”

“I think that part of the negotiations should be left to me as headmistress, Mr. Jones,” Minerva said crisply. “I think I am beginning to understand the need for a broadened curriculum.” She inclined her head to Alys. “And I believe Ms. Cole will agree there’s something we can bring to the table also.”

Alys nodded then smiled. “Yes, I do,” she said. “However, I suggest we go for tea while we talk.” She turned a much happier smile on Ianto. “Mr. Jones doesn’t need to be standing about in the cold in his condition while we negotiate the terms and extent of the _Eisteddfod_ ’s involvement in the British Wizarding World’s war with Master Tom Riddle.”

Ianto laughed softly but nodded. It was cold. He was hungry. And Jack would kill him if he caught a cold while carrying the babies. He offered both women his arms in preparation for leading them from the park but a shiver raced down his spine at Alys’s words. For a moment, one moment only, the world around him seemed to fade while a maniacal laugh echoed through his mind. He shook his head to clear it and hoped that wasn’t a vision of their future.

*** CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE ***

Jack waved the twins off with a grin. They were wicked. Both with their plotting and their ideas so he just let them put their own unique stamp on the plans for the Fall of Hogwarts. He was certain that was how the Death Eaters would name the upcoming event even if Jack staged everything for them in advance. He leant back against the wall at the base of the Quidditch stands to watch the few students remaining outside with him. Draco, his son, so like him in his attitudes that sometimes Jack wondered if they were related, but he knew exactly which of the ‘old blood lines’ he was descended from. There were no Malfoys, Blacks, Harknesses or Joneses in his lineage. At least as his ancestors, it was amazingly difficult to wrap his mind around the other bits of his Boeshane heritage he was seeing the origins of now.

Shaking his head, he grinned as Remus and Tonks rejoined him. Tonks gave a quick nod. Just enough of one to let him know she’d passed on the plan to abandon the castle to her boss. Jack lifted his gaze from the two wizards to see his daughter and her girlfriend kissing in the upper stands. His grin broadened as Remus sputtered at the scene.

“What about it, Remus,” Jack murmured. “If she’s happy with her choice, then I’m happy.” He sniffed delicately before turning the grin on Remus directly. “You can’t really say anything considering where you just came from.”

“How did you know?”

“Fifty-first century senses,” Jack replied. “I have a feeling I know what you two want to ask. So, change in plans, go to the Black house, get _him_ , and then come join us in Cardiff. We won’t expect you right away, Remus,” he said with a wink. “I know how people get after adrenaline raising events.”

A blush bloomed on Remus’s cheeks causing Tonks to giggle madly. Jack chuckled, leaned over and murmured, “If you time it right, maybe you can be in the middle,” before pulling back to laugh freely as she blushed as deeply if not deeper than Remus.

“Oh, Ianto so deserves you,” Tonks mock-growled. “He’d have said the same thing.”

“Does that mean you aren’t interested?” Remus did growl when he asked the question of the young witch. “Well?”

“But…” Tonks blinked, shook her head, and then tilted it back while thinking. Finally, she leaned toward Remus and murmured, “You are a wicked man, Remus John Lupin.”

Jack shifted his attention from the deepening flirting going on in front of him to watch his younger daughter hover in front of Draco who was teaching her the fine points of controlling a broom in the middle of the pitch. He resolved to talk to Tosh as soon as possible after their arrival in Cardiff. Draco had no muggle records, so he’d offer to give the boy his own name when Tosh created and buried the files on his son. If anyone in this bunch deserved a complete new start, it was the former Draco Malfoy.

“It won’t be long,” Jack said softly. His interruption of the couple in front of him caused both witch and wizard to turn questioning looks on him. “Severus left already but…” he paused. There was no real way for the potions master to get in contact with them without being caught. “I just know.”

“How do you know, though?”

“It’s what I’d do,” Jack replied. “In all honesty, we should be totally demoralized and disorganized by the death of Albus Dumbledore. So now is the ideal time to strike and strike hard.”

“So that’s why you did the burial so quickly and quietly?” Remus interrupted.

Jack gave a distracted nod. “Yeah,” he said. “He’s dead. It doesn’t matter to him how he’s buried.” A soft distressed noise from Tonks brought Jack out of his distant thoughts. “It’s harsh, Tonks, but the truth. We can have a service later to memorialize him and all the others we’ll lose over the course of this war, but we can’t linger over his death.” He gave her a stern look. “That will just get us killed, too.”

A half-heard shout from Hermione brought Jack’s gaze up from his blind stare at the other side of the pitch. He looked from her to the direction she was pointing and snarled, “Remus, Tonks, you have your orders.” Jack didn’t waste time waiting to see if they remembered or obeyed just took off at a run toward his youngest daughter while pulling the Webley from its holster. Remembering the plan, he looked up at Hermione to remind her of her part in things. “Hermione!” he shouted. “Grab Pansy and get the hell out of here!”

* * *

As twilight descended on the Quidditch stands, Hermione cuddled beneath a blanket with Pansy while she watched Harry fly about with Myfanwy. The pteranodon’s excited calls as she circled around Harry’s broom kept everyone’s attention on the two fliers. Below, on the pitch itself, Draco was giving Mica flying lessons on a child’s broom which only flew a few feet from the ground. Nearby, her dad leaned against a wall talking to Remus and Tonks. Though from the blushes on both wizards’ faces, Hermione suspected he was actually flirting with both of them.

“He’d make a good parent,” Pansy murmured, watching Draco.

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed. “Though how that would work if Draco’s with Harry, I don’t know.”

“Your parents seem to be managing just fine,” Pansy replied. She shifted a bit to kiss Hermione who tangled her fingers in Pansy’s dark curls to deepen the kiss. It only broke when both girls need to draw breath. “Draco’s a Black just like Ianto. If they do get together, then we’ll have nieces and nephews to spoil soon enough.”

“Are you saying…?” Hermione trailed off. Pansy couldn’t possibly be implying what it seemed like she was implying. Before she could gather her thoughts to continue the question, two dark cloaked broom riders whooshed through the pitch toward the far end of the stands. “What the… Harry!” she yelled. “Find out who that is, I want to report them to Dad for safety violations.”

“Sure,” Harry yelled back. He bent over his broom to start swooping toward the far end of the pitch when the paired _reducto_ curses from the fliers blew the stands to pieces. “Fuck!”

The echoes of the sound had barely died away when Hermione heard her father shout up from where he was running across the pitch toward Draco and Mica. She looked down at him, but he glared back at her.

“Hermione! Grab Pansy and get the hell out of here,” Jack yelled.

Even though she knew the whole thing was staged, the fear in his voice spurred her along. She reached down and grabbed Pansy’s hand before grunting as Myfanwy, now in her smaller form, landed heavily on her shoulder. Hermione looked wildly about for Harry. He was hovering over the field below his hands clenched tight on his broom while he stared down at Draco.

“Go, Harry,” Draco screamed. He was crouched over Mica. “Damnit, Harry, they get you and it’s over. Now get.”

“Don’t you die on me,” Harry yelled back. “I have plans for you!”

“Harry!” Hermione screamed and waved a hand at him. She crouched down into the stands to hide from the wild _reducto_ curses flying about the stands. She waited only for her best friend to join her before grabbing his hand. She didn’t even let him get off his broom before she was apparating Pansy, Harry, Myfanwy and herself away from Hogwarts toward the planned meeting point.

They appeared in the deserted Plass at the foot of the water sculpture. Just as her Dad wanted, she’d landed them in a tight group on the perception filter. Swaying she dropped to her knees and half-sobbed with terror for the people they’d left behind in Scotland as they made their own escape. A deep clunk from beneath their feet signaled the movement of the invisible lift as it began its descent into Torchwood.

“Hermione?” Harry asked. “Where are we?”

“Climb down and stand with me and Pansy,” she said. She freed Pansy’s hand to wipe her eyes. As soon as the slab cleared the arching roof of the Hub, Myfanwy leapt from her shoulder with a shriek to begin circling her original territory. Hermione looked from Pansy to Harry and back before giving them a wan smile. “Welcome to Torchwood,” she said. “Now we wait for everyone else.”

*** CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO ***

“Gwen, it’s a go!”

Jack’s voice rang in her ear through the comm system. She was on her feet before he’d even finished speaking. In the wake of his shout, the sound of glass breaking on the far side of the castle echoed through the open library windows. “Grab the bags,” she ordered her kids. Her newly adopted daughter and her friends obeyed faster than she’d ever obeyed Jack. A nod to Rhys, who pulled out his own sidearm, and they started for the doors. “They’re here. Everyone remember what to do?”

A chorus of nods answered her. As she pressed her back against one of the doors, she caught a glimpse of the kids pulling on the packs they’d organized while waiting for the attack. Between the kids, Remus and Tonks, they’d managed to pull all the books that could have given the Death Eaters an edge, stuff them into easily carried bags lightened with featherweight charms. Gwen still didn’t understand how they’d managed to get all those books in those small bags. Knowing Jack, he’d say something about them being ‘bigger on the inside’. She shook the thoughts away, pulled her gun, and, with a nod to Rhys, opened the library doors. They needed to get up five floors to the top of the Astronomy Tower in order to meet the helicopter for their ‘escape’.

Slipping out the doors, Gwen flattened her back against the wall. They were lucky, no one in the hall yet, and she started to lead the way down toward the lower level of the tower with its winding staircase when a small hand grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” Ginny hissed. She tapped her wand, now held tightly in one hand, on the top of Gwen’s head before repeating the action on Rhys. Tugging out her own weapon, she grinned. “Disillusionment charm. It’ll make us hard to see.”

“Good idea,” Gwen whispered back. Moving as quickly as she dared, she led the way down the hall toward the staircase. The kids right behind her with Rhys bringing up the rear. She hated this plan. Only Jack would insist on putting the kids in danger in order to ‘make it look good’. When she met up with him in Cardiff, she was going to kill him and then lecture him on his plan making.

They moved quickly, yet quietly up the stairs. Gwen could hear the sound of gunfire from above and knew it was the UNIT team guarding the helicopter while waiting for them. Gunfire from behind her had her looking back to see what was going on. “Rhys!”

“Get your arse up those stairs, Gwennie,” Rhys shouted back. “Get the girls on the copter. Blaise and I have this.”

Gwen lingered only long enough to allow Luna to kiss Blaise, something whispered between them in Italian, and to take the bag Blaise had been carrying. Then with a final nod, she forced herself to focus on getting her new daughter and her best friend up to the top of the tower. As long as she heard gunshots behind them, she knew the men were still alive. Gwen had to remain focused but she did take a moment to call Jack on the comms. “Jack… Rhys and Blaise are holding them off in order for me to get the girls out.”

There wasn’t a reply other than a quick click on the link. That told her more than any words that the battle was far harder for Jack then it was for her. Reaching the top of the tower, she smiled in relief at the sight of the helicopter hovering just off to the side of the telescope, one skid just touching the towers battlements while two UNIT men waited on her and the girls.

“Rhys was held up,” Gwen snapped. She watched as first Luna then Ginny were told how to climb into the hovering machine. One man handed them over the battlements while another one reached out to pull them inside. She turned back toward the stairway door only to sigh in relief as a bloody Rhys limped through the door with Blaise right behind. “Come’n,” she ordered.

“Coming, Mom!” Blaise shouted back. His voice just dripped with sarcasm. “Just gotta get rid of the party crashers here.” The Italian turned back around and fired his matched pistols down the stairs. Screams and crashing echoed through the door as he backed through it and kicked it shut.

A beam of bright orange light shot over Gwen’s shoulder toward the door. It enveloped the frame. Blaise grinned, whirled about and put his pistols away. With Gwen on one side and Blaise on the other, Rhys was helped across the tower to the copter, aided in getting on by the UNIT boys, and then Blaise shoved Gwen up and over the battlements. She had no choice but to scramble into the copter or fall to her death. Kneeling on the floor of the copter, she twisted about to glare at Blaise who was scrambling in after her.

“Is that everyone, mam?” one of the two pilots asked. “If so, we need to head out.”

“That’s everyone,” Gwen acknowledged. “Head for Cardiff. Set us down in the Plass if you can.”

“Of course,” the pilot replied.

Gwen could hear him giving orders and logging priority flight plans as he started to ease away from the building. She checked on the kids. Blaise was being fussed over by Luna while Ginny guarded the bags of books from being taken by the UNIT team. Turning to Rhys, she smiled to see him being taken care of by the team medic. A quick glance told her Rhys would be fine. He would limp for a while, but be fine. She sighed with relief.

“Gwen!” Owen’s panicked voice echoed through the comms. “A little help here!”

Gwen scrambled up from the floor of the passenger compartment of the copter. She worked her way forward to lean between the pilots seats and peer out the windshield. “Help where?” she asked. She scanned the grounds below looking for the SUV.

“It’s us versus thirty death eaters,” Owen snapped back. “And the SUV won’t win against that damned iron gate.”

“Shit,” Gwen hissed. She scanned again, found the main Hogwarts gate, and pointed to it. “Listen, can you take that out?” She watched as the pilot flipped the toggle on the weapons while turning the nose of the copter to aim directly at the gate. “Enemy casualties are a plus,” she added. “Just don’t hit the SUV.”

She received no response. Her hands clenched on the back of the pilots seats as she watched the SUV barrel down the road toward the gate. In her ear, Owen’s curses echoed as he dodged curses, death eaters and worried about the gate. Just when she was certain he would have to stop, leaving him vulnerable to attack, the copter shuddered. A missile streaked from beneath trailing smoke as it rushed toward its target. A moment later parts of the gate mixed with parts of death eaters as the missile impacted dead center on the gate. A whoop sounded in her ear and she grinned as the SUV rode right over the remains on its way toward the highway.

With the car away, the pilot lifted up higher and turned away. Both the side gunners and the co-pilot firing the machine guns at the broom flying wizards to clear the path as they turned toward the south. Relieved, Gwen headed back to the passenger compartment where she slumped to the floor. Now, all they could do was sit, wait and hope everyone was there when they got back to Wales.

*** CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE ***

Owen took a moment from the frantic emptying of the infirmary stores to rest a hand on Pommy’s back. He rubbed her shoulders reassuringly. “I know it’s hard,” he murmured. “But we need to keep them as off balance as possible to buy us more time.”

“I know.” Pommy looked back to smile at him. She shoved several vials into his hands. “Take those to Toshiko. She’s boxing them up for me. I’m not going to destroy them because we might need’em.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Owen did as he was ordered. He carried the vials over to where Tosh was quickly packing up dozens of potions into boxes. He’d no sooner set his down then Lavender shoved him out of the way to add to the bottles waiting to be packed. Ron arrived with Neville. Both boys carried more boxes. Neville also had a midsized trunk.

“What are you all doing?” Owen asked.

“What Pommy told us to,” Tosh snapped. “She says there’s a way for her to get all this into that trunk there. It’s a student’s trunk.” She took a moment to point at the trunk Neville set on the floor beside her. “Supposedly she can shrink it all down, pack it in and then shrink that down to make it easier to carry. Apparently that’s not something the kids know yet.”

“Useful,” Owen replied. “Anything I can do?”

“Just carry bottles,” Tosh said. “I got this.”

They worked in a tense silence broken only by terse orders from Pommy. They were all on edge. Even in the moments when they were certain Jack wouldn’t be able to pull off a last minute save of the Earth, they’d never been this tense at Torchwood. Maybe it was because they directly knew some of the players on both sides of this particular battle. Sighing, Owen helped to pack the last of the vials of skelegro into a box. Resting his hands on his back, he arched and groaned as his back protested the motion. “What else?”

“Just the student records,” Pommy replied. “I’m not leaving those here for that bastard.” Owen watched, shocked, as Pommy pulled her wand and waved it over the packed boxes. What had been nearly a dozen two foot square boxes were now a stack of tiny little boxes. As he stared, Lavender reached over and closed his mouth for him before helping Tosh to quickly transfer the boxes to the trunk. Pommy disappeared into her office coming back with several clearly shrunken file boxes which she stuffed into the trunk as well. “Okay, that’s it,” she said after a final look around the infirmary.

Tosh closed the trunk. She locked it with the alien locking device before nodding to Pommy. “No one will get into it with that on it. I had Hermione test every unlocking spell she could find against it.” Tosh stepped back and Pommy shrunk the trunk too. Then she lifted it and handed it to Owen.

“Just in case,” she said. “You carry. I know Hermione knows the spell to enlarge everything again.”

“We’re not losing you, Pommy,” Owen argued. He did take the trunk and tuck it into a pocket. They stared at each other and sighed. “I hate waiting,” he groused.

“I know, but…” Tosh began only to break off abruptly as Jack’s command to Gwen echoed through their comms. Neither of them waited for Jack to contact them just grabbed up their weapons and started for the door. “They’re here,” Tosh said to the kids.

Reaching the infirmary doors, Owen eased one open. They could hear glass breaking somewhere below but had no choice but to make a break for it. Of the four groups escaping from the castle, his had the hardest route to take. To get to the SUV, they had to go for the main entrance which exposed them to the frontal assault of the Death Eaters. Taking one last look at the kids in his care and seeing they were all holding their guns with an experienced ease, Owen nodded and headed out the door. He led the group, Pommy right behind him, then the kids with Tosh and Neville bringing up the rear. They ran as quickly as they dared through the halls to the main staircase and entrance hallway.

Crouching down behind the balustrade, Owen scanned the hall below. They currently had a clear path between them and the large entrance doors. The doors were open which told Owen the Death Eaters had likely made it inside, but he couldn’t worry about that. The SUV was clearly visible outside the doors. No one guarded it. This was their best chance to escape.

He glanced over, pointed down, and when everyone nodded in response, Owen rose to his feet and led the charge down the stairs. To his immense shock, there were no attacks. No curses thrown at them as they ran headlong down the stairs, past the Great Hall where he caught a quick glimpse of the Wealsey twins finishing up their preparations, and out the door. He opened the passenger doors. Front for Pommy, back for the kids and Tosh to pile in, and ran around the car to the driver’s seat. He paused for a moment to fire at two particularly brave Death Eaters trying to curse him before diving inside and tossing his gun onto the console between the seats. He fumbled for the keys even as he heard Tosh powering up the computers and car doors slamming around him. Starting the car, Owen shoved it into gear. Slamming his foot on the gas, he tore away from the front of the building.

“Owen,” Tosh said from the backseat. “It’s double point day on Death Eaters.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Owen chuckled. He dodged curses as best he could but didn’t take the time to avoid hitting the enemy. “Get the damned gate open.”

“I can’t!” Tosh snapped. “It’s magic, remember?”

“Fuck!” Owen was at a loss on how to get them out of the gate. They couldn’t risk climbing out of the car to force it open. They’d be too vulnerable to attack from those on the other side of the gate. He heard Gwen call to Jack to update the situation there. He gave her a couple of minutes and then reached up to hit his comm. “Gwen! A little help here!” he shouted to her.

“Help where?” she snapped back.

“It’s us versus thirty death eaters,” Owen snapped back. “And the SUV won’t win against that damned iron gate.”

He spared a moment to look back at his passengers. Ron had scrambled into the very back. He was steadying a rifle he’d acquired from somewhere on the broken out window frame. Owen knew the kid was good, so he didn’t comment on him rummaging through Jack’s weapons stash. Ron would shoot; hand the rifle back to Lavender to reload it while he took the one she gave him to repeat the pattern. Those two worked very well together. It took him a moment to realize they were missing someone. “Where’s Neville?” he asked.

“Don’t know,” Tosh replied. “He was between me and Lavender until we got in the car.”

“Fuck,” Owen repeated. “Jack’s going to kill me.” He sighed. He hoped like hell Neville had another way out of the castle and could find a way to meet them in Cardiff. He couldn’t turn back to look for the kid. Softly, he murmured a quick prayer of sorts in hopes that Neville would be okay. Focusing on the gate, he let out a shout of joy as a missile streaked overhead to obliterate the gate and many of the Death Eaters in the immediate vicinity. Pressing harder on the gas, he barreled through the gate bumping over several dead or dying enemies before wrenching the wheel around to take the hard curve down toward Hogsmeade and the highway beyond. He reached up to press his comm again. “We’re clear, Jack,” he reported. “But we lost Neville in the castle. See you in Cardiff.” He signed off and looked back at the castle in the rearview mirror. “Good luck, Neville,” he murmured as he focused on the road again.

*** CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR ***

“I did it!” Mica’s squeal echoed around the pitch. She clutched tightly at the handle of the broom while she hovered in front of him. She leaned down and managed to get the broom to fly toward him. “See, Draco!”

“I see.” Draco chuckled. Her enthusiasm was infectious. He stepped closer to her to rest his hand on her back. He gathered a small handful of her shirt in his fingers using that hold to help her remain balanced on the broom. “You’re doing good, _m’seour_.”

“What’s that mean?” she demanded. She sat up and looked up at him. “I don’t know that word.” She pouted a bit at him before tucking her feet up and trying again to fly around the pitch. She couldn’t go very fast, but from her high pitched squeals she didn’t care about that one bit.

“It’s French,” he explained. “It means ‘my sister’ which is what you are.” He grinned at her pleased smile.

“Can I catch the snitch now?”

“No, that’s Harry’s job,” Draco replied. He let go of her shirt for a moment to let her fly on her own for a bit. She wobbled and he dashed over to catch her as she fell off the broom. “You need to know how to fly without falling off first.”

Mica pouted at him. “But Draco!” she protested. “I wanna catch the snitch!”

“And Tad would ground me for life if I let anything happen to you.” He tapped her on the nose before kissing her forehead. “So learn to fly first. When you’re bigger you can be the seeker. Okay?”

She pouted harder. It was so hard to be stern with her. She was just that cute when she pouted. “Okay,” she grumbled. “But I still wanna do it now!”

It was getting dark now. A chill wind picking up as the sun set. Draco saw Mica shiver a bit and pulled out his wand to renew the warming charm Hermione had placed on Mica’s coat earlier in the day. “I think it’s time we go inside. Let Mipsy bring you some spiced cider to warm up with.”

“No!” Mica snapped. “Hot chocolate.” She poked him with a finger. “Want cocoa… and a story!”

“You are a demanding brat sometimes,” he said softly. He grabbed one of her pigtails and tugged on it. “You know better than that. I’m not Dad. So ask politely and maybe I’ll do it.”

“Please!” she grinned at him. Her grin was all Jack Harkness even if she wasn’t actually related to the Captain by blood. “Please tell me a story.”

“All ri…” he broke off abruptly as Harry’s shouted curse echoed down to him. Draco kept one hand on Mica while he twisted about to see what the younger boy was cursing so violently. Automatically, he ducked as shards of wood flew when the stands blew to pieces from a _reducto_ curse. “ _Bordel de merde_ ,” he hissed. He pulled his pistol from beneath his coat and cloak. Aiming it one handed, he fired off a few shots; however, he didn’t dare take his focus off defending Mica. He hadn’t gone through hell itself to rescue her from his blood father just to lose her in this stupid gun fight. Why couldn’t the enemy wait until the noncombatants were out of the way first? He snarled, pulled Mica down off her broom, and tucked her close as he crouched on the grass.

“Draco!”

He spared a moment to look up at Harry. The younger boy was staring down at him and waving his hands wildly. Draco had no idea what Harry thought he was saying or was trying to say. He glared at the boy then fired his pistol at the Death Eater bearing down on Harry. “Go Harry!” he shouted. He crouched lower over Mica in order to protect her from the curses flying about. “Damnit, Harry, they get you and it’s over. Now get.”

“Don’t you die on me,” Harry yelled back at him. “I have plans for you!”

Draco was tempted to answer back but was more concerned with protecting his sister. He spared a moment to confirm Harry’s retreat to join Hermione before refocusing on his shooting. He felt Mica clutch at his shirt. Tiny whimpers escaped her as she clung to him. “Shh, _m’seour_ ,” he murmured. “I won’t let them get you.”

“I know,” she whispered back. “It’s scary.”

“Yep,” Draco said. He gave a relieved sigh when Jack’s Webley appeared over his shoulder to fire at one of the oncoming enemy. “Good timing, Dad,” he said. He let Jack take over shooting while he reloaded his pistol. “Now get us the hell out of here.”

“Working on it,” Jack muttered. “Sort of busy shooting bad guys.”

“I’ll handle that,” Draco snapped. He cracked a momentary smile before curling one arm around Mica to protect her head while he shot anyone in silver masks coming toward them. “You program that thingamajig of yours.”

“Vortex manipulator,” Jack snapped. “It’s a vortex manipulator.”

“I don’t care if it’s Merlin’s lost staff,” Draco retorted. He twisted a bit to put Mica between him and Jack. She’d be better protected there. He rested one knee on the ground to get a better shooting stance. “Just get the three of us to Tad, would you?”

“Almost there,” Jack muttered. His fingers tapped keys as rapidly as he dared on the manipulator. “Got it,” he cried before muttering a vicious curse.

“That sounded bad.” Draco popped a clip from his gun and slapped another in. A cry from Mica as she pressed against his chest just as Jack fell against him put him horridly off balance. He fell on his arse in the grass and hissed softly in French. “Dad! Jack… what the fuck?”

“Grab Mica, press the green button. It’s ready.”

Jack’s voice was harsh, choked with pain, and Draco grabbed Mica’s hand from where she now clung to him and closed it over the strap around Jack’s wrist. He didn’t waste time asking for explanations just did what was necessary to get them out of this hell. Draco made certain he had a firm grip on Mica both her hand on the strap and all but pinned her between him and Jack as he wrapped his free arm around his father. “Here we go,” he muttered. He put his hand on the strap over Mica’s, reached beneath to press the button he could just see beneath her tiny fingers and prayed to the gods that this worked as well for him as it did for Jack.

*** EPILOGUE ***

Clutching the special edition of the Daily Prophet in his hands, Kingsley Shacklebolt stalked through the corridors of the ministry. Hushed conversations fell silent as he passed only to resume in his wake. Reaching the Minister’s office, he stalked past the newest cloying sycophant acting as secretary and shoved the elaborately carved doors to the office open.

“Auror Shacklebolt,” Minister Fudge began. “What is the meaning of this? I’m in an important meeting with Rita Skeeter.”

“I’m certain you are, sir.” Kingsley gave Rita a cold smile though he winked as he passed her to stop beside the minister’s desk. “I don’t think Ms. Skeeter will mind this interruption. She’ll have quite the exclusive to report back to the Prophet with.”

“I can leave….” Rita began only to trail off as Kingsley continued speaking right over her.

“You wanted confirmation of Voldemort’s return, Minister,” he snarled. He slapped the newspaper he carried down on the desk. Beneath two inch high letters proclaiming “Hogwarts Falls” was a photograph of the castle, triumphant Death Eaters grinning while the Dark Lord himself stood behind the masked and robed gathering and waved at the camera. “Take a look! There’s your confirmation!”

 


End file.
